Nothing Left To Lose
by NellyLove
Summary: Mike was spiraling, grasping for some kind of hold to slow him down. Aurora wasn't looking for love, but she was a fixer. When the two are introduced Aurora sees how broken Mike is and her natural instinct is to fix him. Mike thinks he has nothing left but s Rory helps him, Mike realizes he does have one more thing he can lose: Aurora. And he knows he can't let that happen. Miz/OC
1. Downward Spiral

_Well, hello there. _

_I've finally decided to upload this fic because I'm ready now. _

_Anyways, this fic is technically the third in a trio. It's the final installment of my If I Die Young trilogy that began with Meet Me Halfway and its sequel I'll Keep Your Memory. Technically, I guess you don't really need to have read the first two fics to understand this one, but some of the details might be a little confusing if you haven't read them. If you're okay with being a little fuzzy and having questions, then read on. Also, if you have questions about the fic, ask away. I'll answer. _

_I'll tell you now, there are several different timelines going on in this fic. They are each labeled at the beginning of their section (i.e. Now, Then). So there is a bit of jumping around but I don't feel like it's all that confusing. If it is, let me know and I'll try to clear things up for you. _

_Oh and I know the summary says Miz/OC, but the fic also includes some Miz/OC/Cena, Cena/OC, and possibly some Zack Ryder/OC..._

_Okay, this A/N has been long enough, but I have a final warning—if you're looking for a happy, light-hearted fic, this is NOT the story for you. This fic will get a bit dark seeing as it deals with some negative themes like alcohol abuse, depression, etc. If strong language or any of the other issues I just mentioned, bother you, then I advise you not to read. Thank you._

_Lyrics used are from the song I'm Scared by Duffy _

_Onward and upward then. I hope you enjoy_

_xoxoxo_

_Angel_

_**PS:** I own nothing except my OCs—Aurora Holt, Alyssa Scott, and Julianne Scott. All recognizable names, characters, or brands do not belong to me, but to their respective owners. I am not making a profit from this story and it does not portray true events. It is a pure work of fiction written for fun and reader enjoyment._

**_Alternate Summary:_**

_Mike Mizanin was in a downward spiral, grasping for some kind of foothold that would slow him down. Aurora Holt wasn't looking for love, but she was a fixer. When Maryse introduces the two and Aurora sees how broken Mike really is, her natural instinct is to fix him. She's the exact opposite of Julianne, Mike's deceased love, and Mike isn't sure if he likes that or hates it. All he knows is that he needs to change things or he'll lose everything: his friends, his career, and Aurora._

* * *

_ -_**Nothing Left To Lose-**

**Chapter 1: Downward Spiral**

* * *

**Now: **

Mike Mizanin was in a downward spiral that would not quit.

So far gone, so far out of it. Unbearable, unapproachable, unlikeable.

He had successfully secluded himself in his own little hell hole. He'd done it all to get himself so terribly alone, because when he was alone, it felt like Julianne was there.

Lately, he'd felt so far from Julianne.

He fucking hated _that_ woman for out-shining Julianne's memory.

Why was Julianne's memory fading?

He took a sip of Jack, chuckling darkly to himself.

Good ole Jack, always there for his friend, to warm him, and cause his skull to throb the next morning.

The walls around him were painted with heavy shadows, so he assumed it was night. He couldn't know for sure, he hadn't left the hotel room in over a day. He was certain he'd missed the taping he was supposed to be at. But, that taping had been scheduled for a week ago, hadn't it? He didn't know what day it was even, what month. Years could've passed and he would be none the wiser.

His bottle of Jack was running low, he would have to leave soon to go buy some more.

He'd need more alcohol for sure.

Self-hatred required booze, he concluded. Continuing to live required booze as well.

Maybe he could drink himself to death?

Wouldn't take too much more, he estimated as he looked at the near empty bottle which had been full an hour or two before.

* * *

_I'm scared to face another day _

_'Cause the fear in me just won't go away, _

_In an instance, _

_you were gone, _

_and now I'm scared_

* * *

_Then: _

_"God, I've fucked up everything. I-I'm sorry for, for dragging you into this Alyssa, for using you like this. I-" _

_ "You don't love me Mike. And you'll never love me because I'm like Julianne and I'm not like Julianne all at the same time." _

_ "Where will you go." _

_ "Don't worry about it." _

Alyssa had left him and Mike honestly didn't know what to do.

His life for a while had focused around this game he and Alyssa had been playing.

It was never a game to Alyssa, he realized. She had developed feelings for him while he was completely empty inside.

However, he did feel like a monumental asshole for what had transpired between himself and Alyssa. Leading her on had never been his mission. He had always assumed that Alyssa was looking for the same thing he was—a placeholder for Julianne that provided some type of distraction or minute happiness.

Alyssa had lost her sister, a sister she had loved, and when Mike presented himself, Alyssa transferred her love to Mike.

It hadn't been his plan, he hadn't meant to, and still he felt she should hate him for what they had done.

Now, Mike was alone in a way he had never been before. He had no one to talk to, no one to defend himself to, no one to bear his soul to. Sure, he had friends, but none of them would understand. They would judge him for the relationship he had had with his dead girlfriend's sister. They'd call him terrible, heartless and cruel.

Mike could see those emotions in Ted's eyes when they passed each other in the hallway. Mike was aware that Ted tried to avoid him at all costs and Mike couldn't blame him.

Ted was in love with Alyssa. They were happy and blissfully ignoring the past transgressions Alyssa had with Mike.

Everyone was leaving him, everyone was forgetting him.

It felt terrible to be forgotten, to be left behind by people you cared about.

Mike blinked at his reflection in the mirror. His blue eyes were blank, his mouth hanging open slightly as a vague emptiness overtook him. With a deep breath he schooled his expression.

He smiled at himself, smirking with that confidence that everyone associated with Mike Mizanin.

He scrutinized his reflection, eyes scanning over his features. Did he look okay? Did he look like himself? Would anyone notice how disassociated and unhappy he was?

With a slight tilt of his head and a further quirk of his lips he looked like himself, The Miz.

"Hey, champ," John Cena's voice called through the door, "c'mon, it's time for your match."

Mike stared at his reflection for a moment longer. He told himself he just needed to keep taking deep breaths and allow that other persona to take over, to lose himself in the acting, in the character. That is what would get him through, he knew.

"You okay in there Mike?" John asked, a hint of worry in his tone.

Mike snapped out of the daze he had been trapped in and turned away from his reflection. He couldn't look at the facade he had constructed any longer.

He cleared his throat, "yeah, I'm coming." He called through the door as he turned the knob and stepped back out into the locker room.

"Hey, I was getting a little worried about you. You were in there for a while," John said, clapping Mike on the shoulder.

"I'm fine John," he said while sending the man a reassuring smile that he himself didn't truly believe in.

It seemed to convince John, much to Mike's relief.

"Good, good. You better get out there," John said, nodding toward the door.

"Right," Mike said, heading toward the door. On his way, he retrieved his championship belt from where it had been resting atop his bag, and then he walked out into the hallway and toward the curtain, ready to make his entrance.

His match went well. While he was in the ring, he managed to keep his mind focused on the moves he had choreographed and rehearsed. There were no incidents, it went off without a hitch, he came out victorious.

Relief washed over him as he headed back to the locker room. He set his belt down and rifled through his bag, finding a shirt and jeans to change into.

"Good match," John said from across the room where he was sliding his wristbands over his hands, preparing for his own segment.

"Thanks," Mike replied, pulling a towel from the hook on his locker and scrubbing the rough material over his face, wiping away the sweat that had collected on his skin during his match.

"You gonna join us tonight? We're heading out to a club. We've got a pretty big group going." John asked as he pulled his ball cap onto his head.

Mike thought for a moment before pulling the towel away from his face and hanging it back up. He shook his head, "nah, I think I'll pass this time. I'm pretty tired and not in the mood to get drunk off my ass."

"I completely understand, I'll catch you later then," John said, nodding to his friend before he left the locker room.

Mike let his shoulders sag once John was gone. The gloominess took over as the false confidence and attitude he had put on nearly an hour ago vanished. He picked up his clothes and headed into a shower stall, letting the hot water wash away the remnants of his match. He let his mind go blank, knowing he didn't have to worry about fooling anyone while he was in the shower.

He didn't want to go out with everyone because when he's drunk he's honest. If someone asked him if something was wrong while he was drunk, he'd spill everything out to them and then everyone would know how fucked up his mind and heart were.

Mike rested his forehead against the cool tile, the stream of water from the showering falling between his shoulder blades and rolling down his back.

It came out of no where—the intense pain.

It took Mike a moment to recognize what it was.

He missed Julianne.

He never really grieved Julianne because soon after she died he had moved on to replacing her with Alyssa. He hadn't wanted to feel the pain, he just wanted to feel Julianne again and pretend she wasn't completely lost to him.

Now he had no replacement and the grief was beginning to eat away at him. His heart hurt as he realized he would never have Julianne with him again. He was alone in this world without her.

Weakly, he shut off the shower, dried off his body and dressed. He drove himself back to the hotel where he pillaged the in-room bar.

He sat with his back against the side of his hotel bed, one leg propped up, his arm resting on the knee. In his hand he held a bottle of Jack Daniels.

He took a sip and the grief lessened slightly. Another and another. Half a bottle and the pain was nearly gone, just a faint ebbing at his heart.

Maybe he could make it go away. He would try.

* * *

_Please leave a review, because I await them with excitement like a kid on Christmas morning. xo_


	2. This Future

**Aw, the response to the first chapter was great guys! And you haven't even met the OC yet! Well, you'll get to meet her now :) **

**Just a warning, Aurora has quite the potty mouth. If you're offended by strong language, be warned. Also, just a note to everyone, I may up the rating later for strong language and other situations...but I'll let you know if I'm going to do that. **

**So, I originally thought this story would be like I'll Keep Your Memory and be around twenty chapters, but I keep getting all these ideas so it's looking like it might be a bit longer than that. But I make no promises or guarantees. I might still be able to get it all in 20 chapters. **

**Again, thank you for the reviews, they really do make me want to write more. I've been writing bits and pieces of this fic for the past couple days because I've been so inspired from reading your reviews. So keep them coming, please :)**

**Lyrics are from the song Don't Stop Dancing by Creed**

**Onward and upward,**

**xoxoxo**

**Angel**

* * *

**-Nothing Left To Lose-**

**Chapter 2: This Future**

* * *

**Now: **

Mike Mizanin liked to think about his future.

One where Julianne was his wife and they had a couple amazing kids.

There was no confusion in this future, no pain.

No alcohol either.

Mike scoffed to himself, obviously this future was not real. Glancing down at his bottle of Jack he shrugged. So he created fantasies instead of a plausible future, so shoot him.

The future he came up with in his mind was fucking beautiful but not even remotely close to reality.

* * *

_At times life is wicked and I just can't see the light _

_A silver lining sometimes isn't enough _

_To make some wrongs seem right _

_Whatever life brings _

_I've been through everything _

_And now I'm on my knees again _

* * *

_T__hen:_

"Fucking mother fucker. Fuck." Aurora Holt muttered to herself under her breath as she rummaged through her purse for the third time. Her fingers scrambled around in the bag, flicking past pens, old receipts, loose change and gum rappers coming up lacking the one thing she was looking for.

"I can't believe this," she said, throwing her hands up in exasperation. Her cell phone was no where to be found, it wasn't in her purse, it wasn't in her pocket and it wasn't in her rental. "Dammit, dammit, dammit." As she dropped her hands back down to her side something caught her eye.

She lifted her left hand to her eye level, her eyes widening when she saw the chip and smudge of her nail polish. She had just gotten her nails done and now she had messed up the watermelon colored polish on her nails.

"Fuck," she whimpered as she threw herself back against the drivers seat, slamming her fists on the steering wheel.

She jumped in the car as the horn suddenly blared loudly due to her angry slamming fists. As she jumped out of her skin, the top of her hand bumped into the ceiling of the car with a loud thump.

"Ow," she cried as she lifted a hand to the top of her head, holding it there, rubbing her fingers against her scalp to soothe the ache.

Gently, she leaned her head back against the headrest. "Today is so not my day."

She cast her brown eyes sideways as a car pulled into the parking spot next to hers. She sighed to herself, running her hand with the ruined manicure through her bright red hair.

"I just want this day to be over," she groaned, "I just want to get on the flight and go home."

There was suddenly a clang and a dragging scratch.

Aurora's eyes widened as she turned to her right, where a man was pulling up the hood of his sweatshirt as he slipped out of the driver's side door of his car and disappeared before Aurora could even get out an incredulous word.

"No." She said, her voice completely disbelieving. "Just. No." She shook her head slowly as she opened her car door and slid out. Slowly, tentatively the redhead walked around the hood of her car to the passenger door.

Sure enough, there was a long groove along the door of the car where the paint had been scratched off. Aurora turned to the offending car and realized the horrifying parking job the man had done and then he'd carelessly thrown ope his door and scratched the door of her rental. Her rental.

Aurora let out a defeated sigh, knowing that would be coming out of her pocket, but also knowing there was nothing she could do bout it. Her hand lifted to her forehead, pushing back her bangs. She closed her brown eyes and mentally coached herself to just breathe.

"Deep breaths, Aurora, deep breaths."

"You talking to yourself now Rory?" A deep masculine voice asked from the next row over.

Aurora turned at the sound of her nickname to find John Cena approaching her, his gear bag slung over his shoulder and his natural trademark smile on his face, dimples showing.

She blinked her brown yes for a moment and couldn't help the smile that unconsciously curled her lips. "Um, uh," she couldn't quite remember what he had asked as she fumbled for an answer.

John arched an eyebrow and Aurora felt her cheeks heat up. "Um, no, I'm not talking to myself. Well, I was, but..."

John placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled sweetly to let her know he was just playing. "Hey, no worries, everyone does it."

"It's the first sign of insanity," Aurora shot back, not actually analyzing what she was saying, "not that you're crazy, or anything. Not that I'm crazy either." She sucked in a breath, her eyebrows furrowing.

"Rory, I don't think you're crazy." John reassured the redhead, ducking down to look into her brown eyes with his blue ones.

Aurora shut her mouth and gave him a tight-lipped grin, "oh."

He smiled before straightening up, "so, you heading in?" He asked.

"Yeah, yeah. I was out here still because some asshole hit my rental car," she said, motioning to the scratch on her door.

John looked down where she had motioned, "aww, man, that sucks. Some people."

"I was sitting in the car when he did it too." She huffed crossing her arms, "I've just been having a terrible day."

"You are the least deserving of a bad day. You're one of the nicest people I know in this company." John said as he directed her away from the car and toward the arena.

She smiled up at him, "thanks," she stopped walking and pointed back at her rental, "I need to get my stuff but thank you for making me smile."

"Any time, I'm gonna head in. The boss man wants to talk to me."

"'Kay, see you around."

"Yes you will." And with that John turned and headed into the arena.

Aurora let out a slow breath, hoping that would make the heat in her cheeks drain away. After a moment of collecting herself, Aurora turned back to her rental and opened the trunk, unloading her large make up kit and bag of other supplies she needed for work that night.

Closing the trunk and locking the car, Aurora sighed at the scratch on her rental before shrugging, knowing the only thing she could do was report it. She couldn't go back in time and fix it. She turned and headed into the arena, mentally prepping herself for the onslaught of questions her best friend would throw at her.

Last night she had gone out on a date.

/

The redhead sighed as she finally reached her station at hair and make up. She waved and sent a smile in greeting toward Gwen, the other hair stylist and make up artist.

"Sorry I'm late," Aurora said, sounding slightly out of breath. After she'd sent John into the arena alone and gone to collect her things out of her rental she had checked the time to find out she was running ten minutes late. She hoped her first Diva was okay with waiting.

"I took Barbie for you, you know how she can get sometimes when you make her wait," Gwen said.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Aurora chanted appreciatively as she hurried to lay out all of her beauty utensils.

"I also figured you'd much rather do Maryse's hair and make up. She should be here in a few."

"You're the best Gwen. Have I ever told you that?"

"On multiple occasions when I've saved your ass."

"Well, you are the best ever at saving my ass." Aurora replied with a chuckled which died away just before Maryse walked into their section of hallway.

"Rory, how'd it go?" Maryse asked, eyes widening eagerly in anticipation.

Gwen rolled her eyes before turning back to her own stand as Rory turned to her best female friend.

"Hey Ryse."

"Oh come on, tell me about it. Was Cody the man of your dreams?" She asked as she sat down in the make up chair, wiggling to get comfortable.

"No. He most certainly isn't."

"I think your expectations are too high."

"He asked me to pay."

"Oh," Maryse winced, "oh that's no good."

"He's a fucking wrestler, I know he makes good money."

"Language," Gwen called over from where she stood leaning into her mirror, trying out a new combination of eyeshadow.

"Whatever," Aurora grumbled under her breath, "but anyway, the conversation was dead. We had nothing in common. The only thing he had going for him was his face, but after he asked me to pay, I really just wanted to rearrange his face."

"You're so violent sometimes," Maryse said as she closed her eyes so Aurora could brush some eyeshadow over her lids.

"Yeah yeah, whatever."

"That's not a valid response."

"Actually, it is. Open," she ordered as she stepped back to look at her work. Maryse opened her eyes and looked at her friend, watching her as she moved about, picking up some eyeliner and three different tubes of mascara. "I don't have time to put your falsies on, so we'll just have to make those lashes look naturally long," Aurora said, tapping her eyeliner pen against her lip as she peered at Maryse's face.

"Whatever," Maryse shot back with a smug look.

Aurora just rolled her eyes as she set back to work, finishing her friend's make up and moving on to her hair.

"So, I'm really worried about Mike."

"Your ex Mike?"

"Yeah, well, we only dated for a little while. But we're still friends."

"Really..."

"Yes. He's going through some tough times right now. I'm a little worried, he's being really antisocial compared to his normal self. He's usually the life of the party, but lately he won't even go out with the group. I'm worried that he's getting depressed or something. I think he might need someone to take him out and show him a good time, y'know?"

"Uh huh," Rory replied, only half-listening to her friend ramble on about her ex.

"Are you even listening to me?" Maryse asked.

"Uh huh," Rory replied in the same monotone, not even really registering Maryse's question.

Maryse rolled her eyes, "hey Ror."  
"Yeah," she replied, biting her lip in concentration as she tried to get a rebellious strand of Maryse's hair to straighten out.

"Have you ever thought about seriously dating a Superstar?"

Aurora paused and was gland she was standing behind her friend so Maryse couldn't see the blush on her cheeks.

"Maybe. Why?"

Maryse shrugged, "no reason."

Honestly, Aurora thought about exclusively dating a Superstar a lot. She had her eye on a particular Superstar, but she knew she didn't really stand a chance. He was the face of the company and she was just a lowly, boring make up artist. She wasn't at all his type, and he was married, albeit a rocky marriage, but still Aurora didn't want to be a home-wrecker.

Maryse grinned to herself as a comfortable silence fell between herself and her friend.

Mike needed someone who could make him laugh, who could distract him from the pain he was feeling.

Aurora was exactly that type of girl. Maryse was certain Aurora could get Mike's mind off things. Now she just needed to set her plan into motion.

* * *

**We get our first Mike/Aurora interaction in the next chapter, so stay tuned. **

**Also, if you want a visual of Aurora or want to read some info on her, go to my profile and clink on the link to my website. Go to the OCs page and click on the "Like Father Like Daughter" link, Aurora's profile is on there with Julianne and Alyssa's :) **

**Review, please?**


	3. Peach Lipstick

**I'm kinda bummed by the lack of reviews...only two. But then I got a million favorites and follows. I know, favorites and follows are great...but nothing beats a review. Reviews make me so happy, I can't even describe it. They motivate me, they make me want to write more for YOU. So, please, leave a review :) It takes two seconds to give me your opinion. Was the chapter good? Was it bad? What did you like best or least? Something...anything!**

**Anyways...now that I've said that...I just wanted to give you guys an idea of the times/years that the timelines are taking place in...I'll give you a little rundown.**

"**Then" Timeline: Begins in February of 2011 through Spring of 2012**

"**Now" Timeline: Summer of 2012**

**There are also two other timelines, one of which I know for sure that I'm using and the other being flashbacks, which I'm not sure I'll use. But you don't need times on those just yet :) **

**I only own Aurora Holt, Julianne and Alyssa. That's it. **

**Lyrics are from the song Yesterday by The Beatles**

**Onward and upward**

**xoxoxo**

**Angel**

* * *

**-Nothing Left To Lose-**

**Chapter 3: Peach Lipstick**

* * *

**Now:**

Mike Mizanin despised how he noticed her things were missing.

Like her tube of peach colored lipstick. The three muli-colored tubes of mascara that she used daily. Her favorite pillow that she kept packed in her suitcase and took everywhere with her. Her scrapbook with pictures she'd cut out from magazines and printed off the internet of make up designs and hairstyles.

It was all gone, all missing. He hated it.

He hated himself for missing it.

He hated hating things.

He'd just stop thinking. About her, or about anything.

He couldn't stop thinking about how he was running out of alcohol.

* * *

_Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away_

_Now it looks as though they're here to stay_

_Oh, I believe in yesterday _

_._

_Suddenly, I'm not half the man I used to be _

_There's a shadow hanging over me_

_Oh, yesterday came suddenly _

_._

_Why she had to go I don't know she wouldn't say_

_I said something wrong, now I long for yesterday_

* * *

_Then: _

John grinned softly to himself, a low chuckled escaping him as he read the flirty text message on his phone.

Mike glanced over at the man, "who's the chick now?"

John glanced up from his phone to the Ohio native, "uh, Nikki."

Mike turned around to face the man, lifting one brow, "Nikki, as in the one that works for this company and has a twin sister?"

"That would be the one. Let me tell you she does this amazing thing with her-"

Mike didn't want to hear anything about the affair that John was having this week with Nikki Bella. "Does Liz know about her? You do remember you're married right? That's what that ring on your finger means."

He didn't mean to sound so harsh or judgmental. Who was he to criticize how morally wrong John's relationship was when Mike had carried on a similarly morally perverse relationship with Alyssa.

It just felt wrong, Mike knew. Wrong to cheat on your wife, just like it was wrong of him to desecrate the memory of the love of his life by sleeping with her baby sister.

John narrowed his blue eyes at Mike, "I don't need you preaching to me man. It's not really any of your business."

Mike knew he should just let it go, turn back to his locker and continue preparing for his match.

He didn't. "It is your wife's business. I'm sure she'd like to know you're fucking ring rats again. I mean, how long will Nikki really last? The last couple were only around for a couple days each, a week at the most. You go through them pretty fast. I'm sure Liz wouldn't be too happy about that."

"I really think you should just let it go." John said, his jaw tightening.

"I really think you just don't want to hear people calling you on your shit."

"You know what, at least I have a girl who's alive," John quipped back. His heart dropped immediately into his stomach as silence engulfed the room and he knew he'd gone too far with that one.

There was a beat of noiselessness and then Mike was flying at John, fists formed tightly, face awash with anger and pain.

Mike crashed into John, their bodies colliding and gaining a momentum that sent them tumbling into the nearby row of lockers.

It was like an out of body experience for Mike, it was as if he was watching himself lay punch after punch to John's body and jaw. John clipped him back, knowing he couldn't just sit idly and take the beating, instinct told him to fight back and he caught Mike on the eye, knowing he would leave a mark.

"Whoa, whoa, hey!" There was a sudden commotion in the doorway as a group of Superstars entered. Randy Orton and Nick Nemeth grabbed Mike by the arms and hauled him off John while Cody Rhodes and Ted DiBiase pulled John back, wrapping thick arms around his waist.

Mike dropped his head, defeated, as Randy and Nick dragged him outside and threw him, none too gently, against the wall.

"What the fuck man, if Vince hears about his champ fighting the company's poster boy in the locker room you know you're in for some tough shit, right?" Randy asked, pushing Mike's shoulder, trying to get the man to look up at him, maybe to try to knock some sense into him as well.

Mike slowly lifted his eyes and there was a dull emptiness to them.

Nick pressed his lips together, feeling that something was off. Mike wasn't the type to start locker room brawls, he usually did most of his fighting with his words. John must have said or done something that struck a personal nerve to get Mike to actually resort to physical quarreling.

"Randy, give him a break." Nick said and the taller man glanced over at him.

The man from St. Louis looked back down at the WWE Champion and sighed, letting his broad shoulders sag. "You're gonna have a hell of a shiner. You should probably head to make up, ask one of the girls there to cover it. I'll handle Cena."

"Thanks," Mike muttered, taking Randy's advice and heading for where hair and make up had set up their stations for the night.

He rounded a corner, his head down, when suddenly his body collided with a much smaller figure. The woman stumbled back a few paces, catching herself with a hand on the wall and she glanced up at him, her mouth falling open slightly as she stared at him.

"Watch where the fuck you're going," he muttered, moving to walk around her and keep going.

She turned and followed after him, pushing her red hair over her shoulder, "excuse me?"

"You heard me," he replied, not turning to look at her as he turned into hair and make up.

She followed after him and he really just wanted her to leave him the fuck alone, he wanted everyone to leave him the fuck alone.

"You were the one who was staring at the fucking ground. So maybe you should watch where you're going. Hey," she gripped his shoulder and turned him around to face her, "I"m talking to you asshole."

He finally looked up at her to meet her deep brown eyes that were alight with an indignant fire.

As he looked at her, those brown eyes widened with a type of recognition. "You're the guy who scratched my rental car!"

"What?" He asked, brows furrowing and eyes narrowing at her. God, he just wanted her to shut the fuck up and leave him in peace.

"You're the d-bag that swung open his car door and took the paint off my rental and then slunk away before I could even get my door open."

He vaguely remembered getting out of his own rental earlier that afternoon and hearing the door thunk and scrape against the car he'd parked next to. It was just his luck that he'd scratched the car of the annoying chick that he ran into in the hallway. The world was really on his side today.

"I can't believe you had the nerve to-" She paused, her words dying in her throat, "do you have a black eye?"

"What," he lifted his hand reflexively to cover the eye but when he touched the swelling mark he hissed in pain.

The woman grabbed his arm and tugged him over to a make up chair. "Sit down." She ordered and he did as told and watched her as she moved around, digging through one of the make up kits.

"Are you allowed to be doing that?" He asked.

She twisted her upper body to look at him and arched an eyebrow, "I get paid to do this."

Oh, so she was a part of hair and make up.

She stepped up to him in the chair, dabbing some concealer onto her finger. "I think this one will match your skin tone and it's water proof, so don't worry about sweating it off in your match." She paused as she got closer to his face. "We should probably put ice on it first, huh?" She asked, but he wasn't really sure if she was directly asking him or if it was just a question to the open air.

She turned away, setting the make up down and wiping off her finger on a nearby towel which she tucked into the back pocket of her jeans before picking up her cell phone and dialing a number.

"Hey Gwen, can you stop by the trainers room and get me an ice pack." Her eyes lifted to the ceiling as the person on the other end of the call, Gwen, replied. "No, it's not for me. Just bring it, okay. Yeah, you're a doll, thanks." She hung up the phone and leaned back against the counter of the make up station.

"So what happened to your face?" She asked, nodding toward the black eye.

"I got in a fight." He replied in a short, curt sentence.

She rolled her brown eyes, "no shit Sherlock. I mean why'd you get into a fight."

"Because Cena said something he shouldn't have."

"So you punched him?" She asked, eyes widening, shoulders tightening and he realized she was about to go on the defensive, "words are hardly a reason to go to war with someone physically."

"We didn't go to war," he shot back, feeling she was exaggerating the situation.

"If people don't know how to admit they're wrong and made a mistake then a small misunderstanding can escalate into a war."

He stared at her for a moment, eyes narrowing as he tried to figure out where in the hell those words had come from in her petite body. "The fuck are you? A life advice for dummy's book?"

She shrugged a shoulder as she crossed her arms over her chest as they fell silent.

"I'm Aurora by the way."

"I'm-"

"I know who you are. I work for the company, everyone knows who the WWE Champion is." She interrupted him before he could introduce himself.

He stared at her for a moment before shrugging.

A blond woman walked into the doorway and tossed an ice pack to Aurora, which she caught just before it went sailing into the mirror behind her. "Shit, woman, learn how to throw," the redhead said to the blond.

"Learn how to catch. And next time, don't interrupt me when I'm talking to Matt."

"Oh god, you're really trying to get at my best friend, again?" Aurora said, an exasperated, displeased expression on her angular face.

"Yep." Gwen replied shortly before disappearing again.

"Bitch," Aurora muttered under her breath as she walked over to Mike. Taking his chin gently in her hand she tilted his head upward so she could get a better view of his eye. With her other hand she pressed the ice pack to the bruise forming and then picked up his hand and placed it over hers on the icepack.

He stared at her for a moment with the one eye he could see out of.

She drew her hand away, leaving him to hold the ice pack to his own eye and she walked back over to her make up kit.

"How long have you worked for the company?" He asked.

"A couple years," she replied with her back to him.

"How'd you get the job?"

She turned her head, eyes narrowing, "because I'm good at what I do."

He rolled his eyes and sighed as she turned away from him, "I didn't mean it like that. Did someone refer you or something? Usually people don't just find a posting for a WWE job somewhere and apply. It's kind-of an in-the-family type of business."

"Someone told me about the job, so I applied and I was hired."

"Okay," Mike replied, drawing out the word and ending on a sigh.

There was a pregnant pause and Mike wasn't sure if the silence was comfortable or uncomfortable. He watched Aurora as she moved about the small alcove of the hallway, taking small tubes and compacts out of her kit and setting them on the counter, then she'd open a tube and test it on her finger before retrieving her towel from her back pocket and wiping her finger off. Then, she'd place the items back into her kit in precise locations.

She moved fluidly, but not with the same type of athletic grace the Divas did. It was somehow different and he couldn't quite explain it. Julianne was always cool, composed and sure of her movements. Alyssa had been uncertain, clumsy and anxious.

This woman didn't seem to care about her actions, she just moved and let whatever happened happen. There was a restrained freedom in the way she moved and he found himself admiring that.

His mind immediately shut off at the thought that he might be admiring another woman.

"So are you just gonna sit there and stare, or start up a conversation?" She asked.

Mike opened his mouth to reply but suddenly someone came rushing into the small, curtained-off alcove of hair and make up.

"Rory, hide me," Matt Cardona said as he slipped behind the curtain.

"Gwen chasing you?"

"I gave her the slip when she left to get you the ice pack, and I figured she wouldn't stay here after. So I waited until she had already brought it to you and then came here to hide." He paused as he spotted the man sitting in his best friend's make up chair, "Oh hey Mike."

"Hey," Mike replied, hoping he didn't look to ridiculous with the ice pack pressed to his face.

"So the ice pack was for him?" Matt asked, pointing at Mike but directing the question toward Aurora.

"Yeah. Locker room fight."

"Ah, I see. So you're the one who did the number on Cena," Matt said, facing Mike, but his eyes glanced over at Aurora, as if expecting a reaction from her.

The woman just turned back to her make up, picking up the concealer she had found earlier and then walking over to Mike.

"I think it should be okay to put the cover up on now."

Mike removed the ice pack from his eye and watched Aurora wince, "he got you good."

"You should see Cena," Matt muttered. Aurora cast him a dirty look before opening the small bottle of concealer and dabbing some onto a sponge wedge. She set to work, drying the skin of the dampness the ice pack had left and then beginning to swipe the concealer over the forming bruise. As she did, she picked up an easy conversation with Matt, like Mike wasn't there.

He didn't feel the need to join in, he just listened to her talk and watched the expressions on her face as she worked.

Her choice of lipstick color distracted him. It wasn't pink or a deep red, it was a peachy coral, almost orange color and he couldn't decide if it went with her dyed red hair or clashed with it. He found himself focusing on her mouth as she spoke, watching the way she formed words.

For a moment, she noticed and her eyes found his. She didn't say a word, just went back to what she was doing, putting on the finishing touches and blending the make up to his skin so that the cover up job wasn't noticeable.

"I think you're good to go. Just try not to wipe at your face in this general area," she said, motioning her hand in a circle over his right eye, "and you should be fine. No one will ever know."

She stepped back, giving him room so he could slide off the chair.

As he stood he stretched his legs out, he felt like he'd been sitting in that chair for hours.

He moved to the curtain doorway but stopped short. Turning around slightly, "uh, thanks. And I'm sorry about your car."

She paused, her hand halfway to her kit, still clutching the concealer in her hand.

She smiled softly with those peach lips, "don't worry about it."

* * *

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	4. Alcohol

**Yay, you guys reviewed! That made me ridiculously happy!**

**So there's a poll on my page. I'd appreciate it if you'd go and vote. Please and thank you.**

**In this chapter, you get a better look at Matt and Aurora's friendship as well as some more insight into Aurora's character.**

**Again, I only own Aurora, Alyssa and Julianne. **

**Lyrics are from the song Right As Rain by Adele**

**Onward and upward,**

**xoxoxo**

**Angel**

* * *

**-Nothing Left To Lose-**

**Chapter 4: Alcohol**

* * *

**Now:**

Mike Mizanin knew she hated alcohol and he sighed.

Holding his bottle of Jack up to eye level he stared at the quickly disappearing dark golden liquid.

The redheaded woman had hated alcohol and he'd been aware of that since the first day he met her. In that godforsaken club where he'd made a dick of himself.

Julianne had been mostly impartial toward alcohol. She didn't hate it nor overly enjoy it, she was indifferent to the stuff.

Alyssa had constantly turned toward it, enjoyed it, let it distract her and control her actions.

She wasn't like the two sisters in that respect and in may others.

"She'd hate me if she could see how drunk I am," Mike murmured to himself, shaking the glass, watching the liquid circle the bottom.

Setting the bottle down he ran a hand through his hair before throwing it back against the side of the bed.

"She hates me for so many other reasons, why bother now," and with that he picked up the bottle and took another small sip, trying to conserve what little alcohol he had left.

* * *

_Who wants to be right as rain _

_It's better when something is wrong _

_You get excitement in your bones _

_And everything you do's a game _

_When night comes and you're on your own _

_You can say "I chose to be alone" _

_Who wants to be right as rain _

_It's harder when you're top _

* * *

_Then:_

"Well that was a little awkward," Matt said, letting out a sigh as he relaxed back against the wall.

Aurora looked over at her best friend, raising an eyebrow to question as to what he was referring to.

"Mike, sitting here while we were having a conversation and really not saying anything at all." Matt elaborated.

"Well, I wouldn't have much to say either after I got punched in the eye," she shrugged as she placed the concealer she had been using on Mike back into her make up kit.

"Yeah, I guess. I'm surprised Cena hasn't been by yet to have you fix him up."

"How bad off is he?" Aurora asked, trying to bury the worry in her tone, but she was well aware the Matt had noticed.

The Long-Island native shrugged his shoulders, "got a couple of bruises, looks worse off than Mike."

Aurora frowned as she glanced down at her schedule, checking to see which Diva would be coming in next to get her hair and make up done. Aurora lifted her brown eyes up to Matt, "Gwen will be back soon. We have the Bellas coming in."

"I'll make sure to be gone by the time she gets here, don't worry." Matt pulled a face and Aurora smiled.

"There's my girl." He said, pushing off the wall and walking over to her, stopping next to her, leaning his hip against the counter. Aurora placed her hands flat on the counter top and stared into the mirror with a sigh. "Don't worry about Cena, he's a big boy and he's not your boyfriend."

"Yet," Aurora added, her head whipping in Matt's direction.

"Yeah, whatever. Speaking of not being in a relationship, how was your date last night that you're _amazing_ other best friend set you up on?" Matt asked and Aurora wasn't oblivious to the sarcastic manner in which Matt referred to Maryse.

Rory leaned her head against the mirror, squeezing her eyes shut. "Terrible." She pulled her forehead back before pressing it against the mirror again, harder.

Matt chuckled, "that bad?"

"Yes," she sighed, exasperated, "all he wanted to do was talk about himself, and wrestling. An-and he made me pay. It was our first date and he asked me to pay."

Matt winced and hissed, "dick move."

"You don't say," Aurora replied, "obviously there won't be a second date."

"Were you comparing Cody to you-know-who the whole night in your head?" Matt asked.

Aurora looked away from her friend before shrugging and answering quietly, "maybe."

Matt sighed and turned Aurora to face him, catching her brown eyes, "you can't do that every time. None of them are ever going to live up to your fantasy of John Cena as your boyfriend."

Rory stared up at her best friend for a moment, knowing he had caught her and that what he was saying was very valid. Her chances with _the _John Cena were slim to none and if she kept waiting around for him to finally notice her as a romantic interest she may very well be an old cat lady who missed out on love and life.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. You may have a point there."

"I _may_?"

"Okay, so you make a very valid point. I'm sorry that I've been interested in John Cena since I got hired here. I'm sorry he's insanely attractive and really nice compared to a lot of the other guys here."

"No you're sounding defensive." Matt quipped.

Rory sent him a glare, "oh shut up, okay. I get it, you don't think he and I belong together, but I don't see any other guys around that you do approve of." She lifted her brows, "I don't see you putting yourself out there on the market either."

"There's no one new in my life that I'm interested in."

They stared at each other for a moment as silence descended on the room.

"Hey, Rory...have you seen—Oh, there you are Matt," Gwen announced loudly as she walked into the alcove that hosted hair and make up.

Matt's eyes widened as Aurora turned to Gwen. "Hey Gwen," she greeted her co-worker. Matt leaned forward, closer to Aurora.

"Distract her while I make a run for it," he whispered lowly.

Aurora gave the slightest of nods. "Hey Gwen, did you ever give me back that brush I let you borrow last week?"

"Yeah, I did earlier."

"You did? I really don't remember," Aurora turned back to her make up stand, looking around for the brush.

"I definitely did," Gwen added.

"Do you remember where I put it when you gave it back?" Aurora asked.

"I don't know, maybe."

"Can you show me where you think I put it?"

"Just look for it."

"I don't remember and if you remember that will save me all that time looking."

"Ugh, fine," Gwen groaned, stomping over to Aurora's kit. Rory glanced over the blond's head to meet Matt's eyes. "Go," she mouthed soundlessly to her best friend.

"Thank you," Matt mouthed back to her before slipping out of the room.

Aurora picked up a brush from the tray in her kit, "oh, here it is. Never mind." She sent Gwen a disarming smile as the blond glared at her. She turned around to talk to Matt to find him gone.

"Where did Matt go?" She asked, turning back to Aurora, frowning slightly.

"Oh," Rory feigned like she hadn't noticed Matt was gone, "he told me just before you came in that he had to go talk to one of the guys real soon about a script change or something," she shrugged and before Gwen could question her further about Matt's disappearance the Bella Twins walked in for their turn in hair and make up.

"Hey girls," Gwen greeted the twins as they each took a seat in a make up chair. Brie sat in Gwen's chair and Nikki in Aurora's.

"Hey Nikki," Aurora greeted as she picked up her eyeshadow pallet. "What color will it be tonight?" She asked.

"Red," Nikki and Brie replied simultaneously, causing all four women to chuckle afterward.

"Typical twins," Rory joked as she set to work on Nikki's face make up after picking out the eyeshadow shades she'd be using.

"So what have you girls been up to this past weekend?" Gwen asked as she outlined Brie's eyes with black liner.

"I wasn't doing much, made a couple appearances. Nikki on the other hand, had a very...busy weekend, you could say," Brie answered, casting a glance at her sister.

"Shut up," Nikki said as Gwen and Aurora 'ooh'-ed in response.

"With who?" Gwen asked, understanding the implied innuendo Brie had used.

Aurora finished with Nikki's face make up and was dabbing a small brush into the dark brown eyeshadow she had picked out when Nikki answered, "John."

Rory's heart dropped into her stomach, "Cena?" She asked, for clarification.

"Who else?" Brie asked before squealing, "he took her out on a romantic dinner and then they went dancing."

"He was a true gentleman...until we got back to his hotel room," she winked at the other women in the room.

"You dirty girl," Gwen said, clucking her tongue and shaking her head.

Rory smiled half-heartedly as her blood ran cold. Forcing herself to continue on as if nothing was bothering her, she began to stroke the eyeshadow over Nikki's lids as the woman chattered on and on about her weekend with John Cena.

The John Cena that Rory had been crushing on since she got her job with the WWE. The John Cena who had made her day earlier that afternoon when she thought it had all gone to shit. The John Cena who was so out of her league it wasn't even funny.

Holding in the sigh that wanted to escape, Aurora told herself she just needed to finish Nikki's make up, then she could go get some air before her next appointment.

Rory tuned Nikki's giggling and non-stop gabbing as she finished her job before excusing herself quickly.

"What's up with her?" Brie asked, looking up at Gwen.

The blond shrugged, "no idea. She can be like that sometimes."

Brie shrugged before glancing over at her sister, grinning and squealing again excitedly.

-x-o-x-o-x-

"What am I doing? Why am I going out with these people?" Aurora asked herself, brown eyes wide as she stared at her reflection.

She'd dolled herself up after Maryse had told her that most of the roster was going out to a club after the show. Maryse hadn't been in the mood to accept Aurora declining the invitation. In other words, Rory had no choice but to tag along.

Sure, Rory enjoyed going out with her fellow WWE employees, but she was always stuck as the designated driver. She was always in charge of all her drunk co-workers, and most of them got rowdy and rude when they're drunk, which didn't create an enjoyable environment for Rory when she went clubbing.

Usually, she ended up hanging with Phil since he was always the other designated driver. They got along well enough, could hold a conversation, and were sober enough to remember that had formed a somewhat friendship.

"You ready?" Maryse asked, her blond head popping into the bathroom doorway.

Rory glanced over at her friend, plastering a smile on her face, "yeah, let's go."

A few hours later, Aurora sighed loudly, trying to get the expression to carry over the thudding base. Phil chuckled at her, having heard the annoyed rush of breath leave her.

"Why did I agree to this?" She asked, practically yelling above the loud volume of the music.

"Because you're a fucking awesome person," he replied, just as loudly.

"I know, I wish everyone else would fucking realize that." They both shared a laugh as they looked back out at the dance floor, eyes searching for their drunk friends. Aurora spotted Maryse quickly, due to the blond hue of her long mane of hair and Rory smiled to herself, watching Maryse exclaim something and throw her hands up in the air, pointing at the ceiling before Nikki and Brie laughed, continuing to dance with their friend.

"I need another soda. You want one too?" Rory asked as she stood up suddenly.

Phil tilted his head to look up at her since she was now standing as he remained seated. He glanced down at his nearly empty glass, "sure."

"I'll be back," she said before turning and tiptoeing her way through the crowd to the bar.

"I need Pepsi and a Sierra Mist." She said to the bartender, her ears ringing now that she was in an area with slightly less noise.

"Hey, hair and make up girl, right?"

Aurora turned her head in the direction of the voice, her eyes narrowing. "I have a name," she snapped before she even recognized who was sitting at the bar a couple stools down from her. Her brown eyes widened slightly when she recognized Mike. Her eyes narrowed once more, "I do believe I introduced myself."

"Uh," his mouth hung open slightly before he lifted his shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, "you did."

"Right. From now on, I'm only responding if you call me by my name." With that she turned back to the bar and away from Mike.

"So, Aurora, what are you drinking?" Mike asked after several moments of silence.

For a moment she didn't reply, just stared straight forward. Slowly, the visible corner of her mouth curved upward before she turned her face toward him. He expected her eyes to be familiar, but instead they were closed off. "Not anything you're drinking." Her brown eyes flitted to the glass sitting in front of him, half-full with what she knew to be strong alcohol.

Mike glanced down at his drink before looking up at her, "let me buy you one."

"No thanks." She replied curtly, leaning toward the bar, turning her head to look for the bartender. She spotted the man flirting with two women wearing low-cut tops at the other end of the bar.

"One drink with me won't hurt, I promise." Mike said, turning his body toward her.

"Never said it would. Just not interested."

"Not interested in me, or the drink."

"Hmmm," she tilted her head until her ear touched her shoulder and turned to look at him. Her eyes traveled down his body and then back up, "both."

He chuckled dryly. "C'mon, have a drink," Mike insisted.

"No!" The word exploded from her peach lips and she froze for a moment, blinking as Mike stared back at her, temporarily sobered by her outburst. "I said no," she whispered, such a stark contrast from her last utterance that Mike found himself have to lean in to even hear her.

"Sorry," he muttered.

She glanced away guiltily, "yeah, sorry for yelling." She waved down the bartender finally and he set to getting her the sodas she'd ordered.

He shrugged, "not the first person to yell at me today. Possibly the last, unless I get drunk enough to forget all my problems and try to find a woman to take back to my room."

Aurora rolled her eyes, guilt totally forgotten as disgust overwhelmed her. "Whatever." She muttered as the bartender set down two glasses in front of her. Aurora the two sodas she'd ordered and walked away.

She froze as she turned back to the dance floor to find John with his arms around the waist of Nikki Bella, his hands sliding dangerously low on her hips as he pulled her closer to his body.

Aurora thought she would be sick

As John turned Nikki's head so he could place a sloppy kiss on her mouth Rory lowered her head and skirted her way around the dance floor back to where Phil was sitting at their table.

She set Phil's Pepsi down in front of him hard but kept her Sierra Mist gripped tightly in her hand. She took a sip, steeling herself before she swallowed the cold liquid and then took a deep breath. Phil raised an eyebrow at her, but she smiled away the curious look and sat back down across from him, trying to erase the image of John and Nikki from her mind.

* * *

**So, please review and vote on my poll. Thanks for reading :) **


	5. Silence

**Thank you to those readers who did review. You guys are the best :) **

**Here's the next chapter, hope you all enjoy**

**Lyrics from the song Only Love by Ben Howard**

**Onward and upward,**

**xoxoxo**

**Angel**

* * *

**-Nothing Left To Lose-**

**Chapter 5: Silence**

* * *

**Now:**

Mike Mizanin hated the silence.

She was never silent.

She was always talking, always making some sarcastic comment, always making a noise.

This room was silent, too silent.

He could only hear the sound of his own breath, which was not a comforting sound at all. It just reminded him of how alone he was, how he was still alive and Julianne wasn't.

It was the singular sound in the room, it reminded him that _she_ wasn't there with him, beside him. She probably wished she was, he was certain she was worrying about him by now.

He tried to tell himself he didn't care, but he did.

He'd told her one time that "silence is golden."

Now, he realized how wrong that saying was.

Silence was terrifyingly lonely.

* * *

_Darling you're with me, always around me_

_only love, only love _

_darling I feel you, under my body _

_only love, only love _

_give me shelter, or show me heart _

_come on love, come on love _

_watch me fall apart, watch me fall apart _

_and I'll be yours to keep _

_a wind in the shadow, a whale song in the deep _

_a wind in the shadow, a whale song in the deep _

* * *

_Then:_

The cemetery was silent as a grave, which was fitting since the love of his life was buried there.

He sat beneath the willow where he'd met Alyssa the first time and stared at Julianne's headstone.

"I miss you," he whispered, "I miss you so much."

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, resting his head back against the trunk of the tree.

"I hate being alone, I hate being without you. I don't think I can move on from you, and honestly, I don't want to."

He leaned forward, pulling his knees up and resting his arms atop them, "by this time, I thought we'd be married, buying a house, happily in love. Instead I'm sitting here, alone at your grave, with a bottle of beer."

He glanced down at the mentioned bottle and took a swig. "I can't believe it's been a fucking year. A year already and I'm not even sure how I've made it through a year. I can't even tell you what I've done in the past year. I became WWE Champion, that's really the only thing I've done that's worth telling you about. Otherwise, all I've done is sleep with your sister and break her heart.

"Speaking of your sister, I need to leave before she shows up here. I heard she's pregnant, that her and Ted are doing great. I'm glad about that. Anyways, I love you Juli. I'll see you later."

With that he stood and walked back to his car and then drove himself to the airport, it was time for the last Monday Night RAW before Wrestlemania.

* * *

As Wrestlemania 27 rapidly approached, Mike has no time to be tired. His days were a mixture of media, press and performance events with a radio talk show thrown in and a photo shoot squeezed between other appointments. It was enough to wear him ragged.

It was enough to distract him from the gaping hole in his chest.

Each morning he woke up to an empty bed was a painful reminder that he was alone in his life again, traveling with his lonely self from city to city with no true companion.

Alcohol had become more of a friend to him than his co-workers. He hadn't spoken to John since their scuffle in the locker room, and he saw no need to speak to the man anyways. There was no need for pleasantries or politeness when he could easily avoid him altogether.

Mike found himself increasingly annoyed by the Superstars backstage. Always complaining about small, trivial things. The new design of their trunks wasn't what they wanted it to be, their rental wasn't the correct model they'd asked for, their hotel room only had a full sized bed instead of a queen or a king and the towels were too stiff.

He wanted to yell at them sometimes, tell them that their worries that they're complaining about are insignificant and frivolous compared to the things he had to live with day to day.

The love of his life was dead. He'd fucked over his dead girlfriend's sister, literally and figuratively. He'd lost friendship and credibility in the locker room. He felt dead inside and cried more than he liked to admit.

They didn't have a right to complain, but he did.

He never complained out loud. He didn't think any of them would understand. They'd call him melodramatic, tell him to let things go, to try to move on.

How do you move on from the love of your life?

The answer is simple: you don't.

He would never forget Julianne, or the way he felt about her. He would never forget the look on her face as she took her last breath, or the final pressure of her hand squeezing his before she left him forever. Those were things he could not get over, he could not erase. He couldn't actually admit that he would want to forget any of it either.

He figured, probably if he really wanted to, he could be less depressed, less despairing, less broken but something about the pain kept him in reality.

If he detached himself from the agony then he would float through his life and forget Julianne on purpose.

He couldn't do that, he had to hold on to her memory, clutching it tightly because the human memory is fleeting and not consistently correct as time wears on. He may one day forget the exact shade of blue her eyes were, or the order of highlights in her dirty blond hair. He may forget the exact position she fell in before she died, or if she looked at him last or if her eyes had glanced to her father before they fell dull.

Mike sighed, scrubbing a hand across his face as he walked down the hall. He needed some coffee to wake him up or he would never make it through the show.

Turning into catering, he kept his head low, trying to attract as little attention as possible. He wasn't in the mood for small talk or forced smiles today.

"Look, I'm just saying, I don't think he's interested," a voice said, rising from the table Mike had been passing on his way to the coffee machine. As he grabbed a paper cup and filled it with the piping hot liquid he glanced over his shoulder subtly. He paused, recognizing the woman that was speaking. It was the make up artist that had covered up his black eye a couple of weeks ago. She was sitting across from a blond woman who Mike also recognized from hair and make up.

"You don't know what you're talking about," the blond woman said with an indignant shake of her head before pushing her chair back roughly, standing, and walking out of catering.

Aurora, that was her name, he remembered, sighed heavily, pushing her bangs up away from her forehead as she leaned back in her seat. "Yeah, because he's not my best friend," she said aloud to herself and Mike couldn't help but grin at the snark to her words.

He turned back to his coffee, fixing it to his liking and placing a lid over the top.

When he turned back around to leave catering he found his path blocked as John Cena leaned against the table that Aurora was seated at.

Her back instantly straightened and her hand left her hair, causing her bangs to fall messily over her brow, the ends just brushing over her eyes. She smiled an easy-going, genuine smile, her brown eyes bright with interest as John said something lowly to her and she laughed musically.

Mike shook his head, deciding that if she was the type to fall for Cena's charm, then she wasn't worth his attention at all. Maybe the spark and wit he'd witnessed was a temporary thing that she put on, but underneath she was just as shallow as most other woman.

He changed his path so that he avoided Cena and Aurora's table and made his way back to the locker room, reassured that he wouldn't run into the face of the WWE now. He could get ready in peace without worrying about Cena walking in and Mike being on high-alert.

"Mike," a voice called, causing the Ohio-native to turn instinctively in the direction from which his name was called. He found a stagehand with a clipboard quickly traversing the hall to reach him. He raised an eyebrow in question, signaling for the stagehand to speak.

"Vince would like to speak with you."

"What about?" He asked, eyebrows furrowing.

"I don't know." The stagehand replied lamely before moving past Mike and heading down the hall.

Mike rolled his eyes and sighed as he turned back around and headed for Vince's office.

Upon reaching the door, Mike knocked on the wooden surface and waited until he heard an affirmative to enter.

After hearing Vince's gruff "come in" Mike opened the door and crossed the threshold.

Vince McMahon intimidated a lot of people, Mike included. But Mike was good at showing confidence in place of intimidation and fear. He schooled the jittery feeling in his core as he sat down in the chair positioned for guests in Vince's office.

When Vince lifted his gaze to his employee, Mike could instantly tell he was livid.

Mike swallowed and waited for Vince to speak, and the Chairman of the Board let the silence drag on until it was nearly unbearable.

Finally he shuffled the papers in his hand until they were a straight stack and then set them down.

"I heard about an altercation in the locker room between you and John Cena. Did this altercation occur?" Vince's gaze was steady on Mike and the Ohio-native knew he couldn't look away.

Mike cleared his throat, "it did, two weeks ago at a RAW show."

Vince nodded and straightened up in his chair. "Well, I'm glad it didn't affect your work or John's." Mike was relieved by Vince's reaction momentarily before the older man continued. "However, if anything of the sort happens again, there will be consequences. Do you understand?"

"Of course," Mike said with a nod.

"When I mean consequences Michael, I mean I'll have you drop the WWE Championship. I will make an example out of you to show the rest of the locker room that I will not have my champion starting up locker room squabbles when he feels like it. I hear word of a single punch thrown, or a hard push into a locker and you're time as champion is up."

"I understand." Mike said, nodding again, keeping his eye's locked with his boss's.

"Good. That's all." Vince said, nodding in dismissal.

Mike slid his palms down his thighs, wiping away the sweat that had accumulated there, before standing up and leaving the office.

Once out in the hall, Mike let out a heavy sigh.

* * *

The dark circles around his eyes were far too prominent for a pay per view, and certainly not for a pay per view as precedent-setting as Wrestlemania— a Wrestlemania that he was headlining, that he was retaining his title at. He was going in WWE Championship and leaving with the same title.

He had to look good for this moment, it was the one bright spot in his life at the current moment—being champion. It was something he'd dreamed about for years, and it was the only thing keeping him going now.

He rested his hand on the door frame leading into hair and make up, which garnered its own room for the biggest event of the WWE year.

There were four women milling about, two of them had Divas in their make up chairs, the other two looked to be preparing for a Superstar or Diva to show up.

Mike recognized the blond that was present the last time he had found himself in hair and make up. She had Maryse in her make up chair and she was slowly unraveling the Diva's hair from a curling iron.

There was another blond he did not recognize, along with a brunette he knew who worked on Smackdown.

The fourth cosmetologist in the room was the redheaded Aurora. She was digging through her make up kit, searching for a product Mike couldn't even begin to guess.

She turned, having finally found what she was searching for, and spotted Mike standing in the doorway.

"Did you need something?" She asked, tilting her head slightly as she approached him.

"Um, yeah," he motioned to below his eyes, "my dark circles, I was wondering if you could cover them up. You did a really good job with my black eye last time, so I figured I'd come ask you if you could...do it."

She studied his face for a moment before smiling and nodded, "course I can, come have a seat," she said, motioning for him to follow her. She led him over to her make up chair and he took a seat.

She lowered the chair slightly so she was level with his face.

"I think I remember what concealer I used. Give me a minute."

She walked back over to the counter, searching through a tub of make up products.

Mike puffed out a breath and glanced to the side, finding Maryse sitting in the chair next to his.

"Hey Ryse," he said, forcing a smile onto his face.

The blond grinned back at him as Gwen stepped away to grab a can of hairspray.

"Hello there Michael." She said in reply, a smirking grin on her face, "long time no see," she said in her thick French accent. "You excited for tonight, champ?"

"Yeah, definitely."

"Really, you don't sound like it," she said, arching a brow in disbelief.

Mike shrugged, "I'll be glad when it's over, so I can get some real rest. I haven't had a good night's sleep in weeks."

Maryse nodded without saying anything more as Aurora returned to Mike with concealer in hand.

"All right, champ, let's cover those dark circles," Aurora said as she stepped up close to him, squeezing the concealer onto a small triangle wedge and beginning to spread it under his eyelid.

He had nothing to do but watch her, and found himself breathing self-consciously. As he exhaled, he watched the way the flow of his breath ruffled her red hair. Every few seconds she'd glance up at him and their eyes would meet for a second and she smiled slightly before returning to what she was doing.

"So, big night, huh?" Aurora said, attempting to stimulate a conversation.

Mike went to nod, but realized he couldn't due to Aurora spreading the concealer on his skin. He cleared his throat, "um yeah, really big. First time headlining Wrestlemania."

"Yeah, and congrats in advance for winning."

He raised an eyebrow questioningly, wondering how she knew.

"John mentioned that he wasn't winning the title tonight." She shrugged, noting his questioning look.

Mike pressed his lips into a thin line and waited in silence as she continued her work.

"Wow, you are quite the conversationalist, Mike," Maryse commented with a light laugh, "you suck so much at talking that you've even got Aurora to be quiet."

Aurora sent her friend a glare that mirrored the one Mike shot at the blond.

"Hey, lay off. He's got his head in the game. Plus, it's fine. Silence isn't so bad, sometimes its good."

"What is it, silence is golden?" Mike said, the corner of his mouth lifting. Aurora smiled lightly as well before capping the concealer tube.

"Well, you're all done. Good luck out there," she said as she stepped back so he could slip out of the chair.

"Thanks for..this," he said, motioning to his face.

"No problem," she winked, "it's kinda my job."

Mike smiled before turning and leaving the room, hearing Maryse begin to chatter excitedly to Aurora as he walked away.

_-x-o-x-o-x-_

"Nice match out there," Orton said as Mike passed.

"Thanks man," Mike replied as he wiped the towel that was around his shoulders across his face. Three weeks ago had been Wrestlemania where he had retained his title. In a week was Extreme Rules where he would face John Cena yet again along with John Morrison, his former on-screen tag team partner, in a steel cage match.

The outcome of the match had yet to be decided, but Mike had felt confident about his reign as champion continuing.

He made his way back to the locker room, collecting his street clothes before heading into the showers, cranking up the water until steam filtered throughout the room. He stepped under the hot spray of water and let out a sigh, slicking his wet hair back from his face and letting the water rain down his chest.

He'd been trying to avoid Cena at all costs, not wanting to risk anything. But before the show had started, he'd lost his cool.

John had been sitting in the locker room as Mike oiled up his chest for his match. Mike was doing his best to ignore the man but a name that John mentioned had caught his attention.

_"Aurora's ass is fucking out of this world, I would love to get a firm grasp of that and squeeze."_

_ "She is pretty hot," Cody Rhodes agreed with a nod and John just pushed him in the shoulder. _

_ "She's more than hot man, she's a fine piece of ass that I plan on bagging. Really soon."_

_ "You're such a pig." Mike muttered._

_ "You say something Mike?" John asked, turning his blue eyes toward Mike._

_ "I said, you're a pig." _

_ John stood, "we've been through this before Mike. This is none of your business. I suggest you just step down, you know what will happen if we let things get out of hand again." _

_ "Maybe it wouldn't be my business if you didn't go broadcasting it to the whole locker room. It's sick. Aurora deserves a whole lot better than you."_

_ "What do you know about her?"_

_ "Probably more than you do." Sure, he was bluffing, but he didn't think the redheaded woman deserved to be talked about as if she's a piece of meat. _

_ "You know what Mike. I think you're full of shit. I think you're out of touch and that you're heads not in it anymore. I don't think you're fit to be WWE champion. And I think you know nothing about Aurora, but I'm about to know her in deeper detail." _

The rest had spiraled from there, into fists and boots and bloody knuckles.

Now Mike was certain he'd be losing his title at Extreme Rules.

_-x-o-x-o-x-_

"Hey Mike," Maryse stopped in the locker room doorway after the Extreme Rules pay per view had ended.

Mike glanced up at her from where he sat on the empty locker room bench. He'd just suffered defeat at the hands of John Cena, who now held his title.

"Yeah, Maryse?" He asked, not in the mood to be personable or friendly.

"I know this is a really bad time, but I've noticed lately that you've been really...down, and I think I have an idea of how to cheer you up."

"Yeah, and what would that be?" Mike asked, rubbing a hand across his forehead, feeling weary and annoyed.

"A blind date."

"A blind date?" Mike repeated as he stood up and threw his towel down, "really Ryse? A date, you think that will cheer me up."

"It's just one date Mike. You never know what could happen. It could be really fun."

"I know what will happen, she'll remind me of Julianne, she won't be Julianne. I won't be happy, I won't fall in love again."

"Mike..." Maryse said his name slowly and he just shook his head, going silent.

After several moments, Maryse sighed, "please Mike, just one night, just try to have some fun. You could end up really liking the girl."

Mike sighed and knew that if he agreed, Maryse would finally leave him alone.

"Fine."

He was never really certain why he agreed. There was probably a bigger, deeper reason than just wanting Maryse to leave him alone. He could never put it into words.

Maryse left with a victorious grin on her glossy lips.

The silence was golden.

* * *

**_Please review. Thanks for reading. xo_**


	6. Nightmares

_**This chapter is a little shorter, but it's here and it's an update!**_

_**Thank you to those who did review. It'd be awesome if I could hear from a few more of you readers! **_

_**So this chapter is how everything really gets started between Mike and Aurora...I hope you enjoy**_

_**onward and upward**_

_**Lyrics from Before the Lobotomy by Green Day **_

_**xoxoxo**_

_**Angel**_

* * *

**-Nothing Left To Lose- **

**Chapter 6: Nightmares**

* * *

**Now:**

Mike Mizanin was sometimes plagued by nightmares.

Nightmares where he relived Julianne's death over and over again. Her body crumbling, her eyes closing, her face paling. The way her hand loosened around his until there was no lively grip to it left.

No matter how many times he dreamed it up, his actions were always similar and the result was always painfully the same.

His fear, the brokenness inside of him, the consuming sadness from the memory-turned-dream latched on to him and stayed attached to his skin like a leech even as he woke back into his living world. Drenched in sweat he would sit up, chest heaving, lungs searching for more air because his heart had sped up considerably while sleeping.

Now, his eyelids snapped open, a strangled gasp leaving his mouth, the empty bottle of Jack he'd been clutching dropped to the floor with a dull thud.

He didn't even remember falling asleep.

He didn't remember a lot of things.

The dream had been the same as all the others that had come before.

One minute Julianne was walking with him, the next she was fading away, then she was dead.

He wished that, because it was a dream, maybe he could change the events but no matter how hard he tried, no matter how hard he hoped the dream would deter from the path reality had taken, there was still no change. Julianne always died at the end of the dream and then he woke up mid-yell to a world without Julianne.

Pressing a hand to his forehead he mopped the sweat away that had gathered there.

His world was without Julianne, and those nightmares continually reminded him of that.

* * *

_Singing, I can hear them singing_

_When the rain had washed away _

_all these scattered dreams_

_._

_Dying, everyone's reminded _

_Hearts are washed in misery_

_drenched in gasoline_

_._

_Laughter, there's no more laughter_

_Songs of yesterday now live in the underground_

* * *

_Then:_

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Aurora said as she glanced back at her best fried who sat with her legs neatly crossed at the knee on Aurora's bed.

"Yeah, well, you'll be thanking me later." Maryse replied, examining her manicured nails.

"Really, Ryse? Really?"

Maryse lifted her eyes without moving her head and smirked like she was in on a joke that Aurora wasn't.

Rory rolled her eyes, turning back to her mirror, tugging down her bottom eyelid in order to trace it with black eyeliner.

"He'd better be fucking hot," Rory muttered.

"Oh don't worry so much," Maryse said as she stood and Aurora slid her eyeliner in to her traveling make up bag, which she slipped into her purse.

Rory turned to face her blond friend, "okay, let's go."

On the drive to the restaurant, Rory attempted to get more information out of her friend about her date because Aurora had no idea who it was.

As Rory stepped out of the car, tugging the hem of her tight-fitting dress down she turned back to the car. Maryse rolled the passenger window down and raised an eyebrow at her friend.

"Will you at least tell me his name?" Rory asked, exasperated.

"You'll know him when you see him." Maryse replied before rolling up the window and driving away.

"She is such an amazing best friend," Rory muttered before turning back around and heading toward the restaurant in her black heels.

She gasped softly as the double doors to the restaurant were pulled open for her by two men in suits. As she looked around she felt out of place, noting the crystal chandeliers and expensive paintings. The carpet was a deep, rich red and the walls were patterned with glossy colors.

Maryse hadn't said anything about the restaurant being this ritzy.

This wasn't Aurora's style at all.

Her eyes moved over the room that she could see, noting there was another, more private room through an open doorway.

Aurora stumbled forward, suddenly feeling klutzy in front of all these obviously rich people.

"Hi ma'am, how may I help you?" the hostess asked with a wide put-on smile.

"Um," Rory couldn't quite articulate the reason why she was there. Finally, she located her answer, "I think there are reservations. I'm here on a date..."

Someone familiar caught Aurora's eye as she glanced behind the hostess.

Mike raised his eyebrows questioningly as he caught Aurora's eyes from across the room. They both wondered why the other was here in such a fancy restaurant. Aurora say Mike as the kind of guy to frequent these types of places, but he was sitting alone at the bar.

His blue eyes took her in, noting that she had dressed up for whatever occasion drew her to the restaurant and she looked phenomenal.

"Oh yes," the hostess said with a smile, "you're date has been waiting. We'll take you both to your table now."

Aurora's attention was directed to a waiter that the hostess motioned to and she was led away. When she glanced back, Mike was no longer sitting at his chair at the bar, but she couldn't locate where he had moved to either.

The waiter led her through the archway into the private side room where there were only a few two-person tables scattered about.

At the table in the very middle of the room sat Mike.

This was the table that the waiter led her to, pulling out her seat for her as Mike looked up and stared.

"I hope you two enjoy, your server tonight will be Sophia," and with that the waiter that had led Aurora into the room dismissed himself, leaving the two alone at the table.

Aurora slowly sat down and stared at the man across from her.

"You're my...blind date," he said, his head tilting to the side slightly.

"That Maryse set me up with," she finished for him before shaking her head, "I can't believe her."

"What? Disappointed I'm not Cena?"

Her brown eyes narrowed, "excuse me?"

Mike deflated instantly, leaning back in his seat, "nothing," he muttered.

There was a silence that stretched between them as Aurora slid her fingertips along the smooth white table cloth and looked anywhere but at Mike. She was attempted to get up and leave, but she knew if she did, Maryse would only set her up on another, even more awkward date with someone else on the roster.

Rory sighed heavily, "sorry, I'll stop being rude." She folded her hands in her lap as she finally let her eyes fall on Mike. He stared back at her and opened his mouth to speak when suddenly the waitress was standing at their table, asking them if they wanted something to drink or an appetizer.

Mike glanced at Aurora and then told the waitress they wouldn't need the bottle of wine he had spoken to her about earlier. The waitress just nodded before turning to Aurora, looking for some sort of input.

"Just water, thank you," Aurora smiled and the waitress nodded before taking off again.

"I'll just tell you now," Mike started, gaining back Aurora's attention, "I don't want to be here."

Her head tilted slightly, "that makes two of us." She smirked, "but I'm not one to turn down a free dinner."

Mike couldn't stop the small grin that curled the edges of his lips at her humor.

"I'm not actually looking to date anyone at the moment."

"But Maryse doesn't take no for an answer," Aurora nodded, "I'm very aware."

The waitress brought their waters in fancy glasses and asked them if they were ready to order their main course.

"Fuck, I haven't even looked at the menu yet," Aurora said, blinking down at the fancy, bound pages in front of her.

The waitress stared down at Aurora for a long, silent moment before she stuttered, "I'll, uh, I'll give you some more time then."

Mike chuckled, "don't think she was ready for that."

"People in these types of places rarely are."

Mike dipped his head in agreement.

Aurora picked up her menu and the bright fluorescent green color of her nails caught Mike's eye and he found himself watching her as she flipped through her menu.

"So, Maryse is trying to hook you up with someone too?" She asked, looking at him over the edge of her menu, arching a brow.

He nodded, "yeah, she has been since my last relationship ended...abruptly."

"Ahh, so there is another woman."

"What?" He asked, eyebrows furrowing.

"Well, I mean, I figured there was still another woman in your life for you not to be interested in a date with a girl who is friends with a WWE Diva like Maryse. I don't like to toot my own horn, but I know I'm not hideous."

"You're not," Mike agreed.

"Exactly, so I figured you still weren't over your most recent ex." She shrugged, as if it was a logical answer and easy to come by.

She was partially correct, Mike had to give her that.

"Am I close?" She asked, setting her menu down.

"Very."

"Hmm, I am too good at this," she said as she took a sip of water.

"But she's dead, we didn't just break up."

Aurora nearly choked on her water, glancing up at him, her mouth still on the lip of her glass. She set the water down and took her napkin from her lap, wiping her face. "Excuse me?"

"Julianne's dead. The girl I'm not over."

"Oh." Aurora's eyes were wide.

He expected her to apologize, to give him her condolences, all the things people normally say.

Instead, she said, "that's a pretty good reason to not want to be on a date with me." There was a pause in conversation as the waitress came over and took their orders before scurrying off again.

"What...how did she die, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Brain aneurysm. She had cancer, no one knew about it, she didn't say a word."

"Like a tragic romance novel," she sighed sadly, "that's terrible. How long ago?"

"Just a year."

She nodded, "I'm sorry Maryse made you go on this date with me. I feel like a real dick right now."

He shook his head, smirking slightly, "don't, you didn't know and Maryse...she doesn't get it."

"She knew..about Julianne? That's her name, right?"

"Yeah," Mike nodded, "Maryse did know her, she met her, she just expects me to move on, get back out there. I haven't even fully comprehended the fact that she isn't here anymore." He chuckled morosely.

"Tell me about her," Aurora's brown eyes watched him, showing her open expression. She wasn't just asking these questions to fulfill the obligation that was presented to someone when this topic came up. She was asking about Julianne because she honestly wanted to know.

Aurora could tell that Mike didn't have anyone to talk to about Julianne. She knew she shouldn't really get herself involved with a guy who's known to pick fights in the locker room and now has loss issues but she couldn't help herself. He looked lost and broken in that moment that he told her Julianne was dead, that the woman he wasn't over was gone.

Her high school friends had always made fun of her for picking boyfriends who had issues. Daddy issues, drug issues, fidelity issues. She took in projects, tried to fix their issues. Usually she failed, and the guys were unchangeable dicks but every once in a while she could turn a diamond in the rough into something spectacular. She'd almost married one of her projects once, she'd done so well.

Mike looked like he could use a little fixing, a little sprucing, some help being put back together because obviously doing it alone wasn't working for him.

Rory spent the next two hours listening to Mike tell her about Julianne, about how they met, how they got together, how they fell apart, how they reunited, how she left him. Rory was fascinated with the choleric love story, the tragedy and the pain that made it all realistically human.

They didn't notice how long they'd been talking over their meal, and desert and coffee after their desert, until Mike's phone rang.

"It's Maryse," he said.

"Ignore it."

He did, setting his phone back down on table, returning his eyes to Aurora.

"Thank you, for listening."

She shrugged, giving him an expression that told him there was no need for thanks.

"And I'm sorry for being such an ass when you first got here," he added.

She smiled slightly, "it's already forgotten." She said as they both stood, understanding without words that their night was over and it was time to part ways.

He led her out of the restaurant, his hand a gentle pressure on her back that only felt slightly awkward.

On the street, he waited stood with her for a moment before she realized she needed a ride back to the hotel, which he graciously gave her.

As they stepped out of the elevator on their floor, their rooms down opposite halls, Aurora turned to him.

"Mike," she said and he tilted his head down toward her, listening. "Our dinner wasn't a date, okay?"

"Okay," he said slowly with a nod.

Her peach lips upturned as she reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet.

"What the-" he started, his words trailing off as she took the receipt from their dinner out of his pocket.

She produced a pen from her purse and uncapped it with her teeth before scribbling something on the flimsy paper of the receipt. She slid it back into his wallet and handed it to him. He took his wallet back, placing it into his back pocket, watching her with furrowed brows as she capped her pen and returned it to her purse.

"If you ever need to talk to anyone, call me," she motioned to his wallet before smirking and walking away. Mike watched her, in awe and confusion, because he just couldn't figure the redhead out.

She wasn't anything like Julianne, but he liked her.

* * *

**_Please review :) _**


	7. Genuine

**Sorry for the long wait. I just graduated high school and life's been crazy. But I did get a new laptop so I don't have to worry about my old one dying in the middle of writing a chapter anymore.**

**Here's your update, we're getting into the main part of the plot line now :) Hope you enjoy, please leave a review.**

**Thank you DeathDaisy, ambrosesaysnope, and darjh619edge for the reviews on chapter 6. **

**Lyrics are from the song Dig by Incubus**

**xoxoxo**

**Angel**

* * *

**-Nothing Left To Lose- **

**Chapter 7: Genuine**

* * *

**Now:**

Mike Mizanin knew she wanted to talk to him.

Her, the girl who had ruined everything.

No, not a girl. A woman. A stubborn, infuriating, unmovable, opinionated, tough, strong-willed, incandescent, entirely lovable woman. He was so entangled with her he was losing himself and what he had considered most important to him.

She drove him crazy.

Like the knocking on his door.

He ignored the incessant sound, not even making a noise in return.

Maybe if he ignored her, she would go away.

Not likely.

* * *

_We all have a sickness_

_That cleverly attaches and multiplies_

_No matter how we try _

_We all have someone that digs at us,_

_At least we dig each other _

_So when sickness turns my ego up _

_I know you'll act as a clever medicine._

_If I turn into another_

_Dig me up from what is covering _

_The better part of me. _

* * *

_Then: _

There was sun streaming into his hotel room and he cursed himself for leaving the heavy, billowing curtains open the night before. Stretching his forearm over his eyes he sighed at the throbbing in his skull and the ache of his muscles. He didn't think there was a bribe in the world that would coax him out of bed in that moment. The hotel bed, which he had never seen as overtly comfortable or luxurious compared to his own bed back in Los Angeles, suddenly seemed like a plush cloud and he never wanted to roll off of it.

"Fucking hangovers," he muttered to himself.

Not only did his body hurt and burn with overuse and exhaustion, his mind was bogged down with the emotional and mental stress he'd been under lately.

Disappointment had arrested his self-confidence, lack of control of his aggressive impulses frustrated him even further, he was a complete mess and couldn't concentrate and his patience was blown to hell too.

"What's wrong with me?" He asked no one in particular as his fingers rubbed at his temples and he opened his eyes against the invading sunlight to stare at the ceiling.

His phone buzzed on the table beside the bed but he ignored the incessant shaking on the wood as he rolled over, away from the light and into the softness of his pillow.

Carefully, Mike thought back to the night before, retracing his steps, trying to determine what part of the week he was in.

He had gone out alone the night before, no co-workers tagging along to the hotel bar. He deduced from his solitary trip that there must not have been a show the night before. The fact that he could even remember where he'd gone, how he'd gotten there and who he'd gone with surprised him. Usually those memories alluded him after a night of heavy drinking.

Though, as he thought more on the night, he realized he hadn't had that much to drink. Not nearly enough to warrant the kind of hang over symptoms he was experiencing.

He sighed into the pillow case. He remembered a house show occurring the night before last, which meant the previous night had been Sunday.

It was Monday, he needed to get up and head to the hotel gym, sober up, and pull himself together. That night was Monday Night RAW, and he really couldn't afford to fuck up much more.

* * *

"So...?" Maryse asked in a sing-song voice as she sat down in the seat across from Mike at his table in catering. Mike glanced up at her before taking a sip of his coffee, hoping the drink would help sober him up.

Maryse arched an eyebrow, still waiting for an answer.

"So what?" He asked, eyebrows furrowing as he stared into his Styrofoam cup of hot liquid.

"How was the date with Rory?" She asked, sounding incredulous that he didn't know what she was inquiring about.

He stared at Maryse for a long moment and he could see the panic begin to overtake her features as the color drained from her face.

"Was it that bad?" She asked in a conspiring whisper as she leaned in, eyes wide.

Mike couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him despite his dark mood.

Maryse blinked at him as if he had grown a second head. "What are you laughing about? Dammit, I thought you guys were perfect for each other. Fuck."

Mike shook his head, "Ryse, calm down. The dinner was fine."

She froze in her head-shaking and stared at him again, "what?"

He shrugged, lifting his hands, "it was fine. Aurora's great."

"Oh," She closed her mouth, which had fallen open, "oh."

Mike smirked at his blond friend as he shifted in his seat, "but she and I both agreed I'm not ready for a relationship yet."

The blond's eyes narrowed, "you both agreed...you mean you brought up..." she paused and leaned in, lowering her voice, "_Julianne._"

Anger swelled in him at her reaction to the possibility of him talking about Julianne. It wasn't like she was some pariah of society that nobody talked about. That wasn't the case at all. She had been the friend of many of their co-workers. There was no reason for Maryse to have to lower her voice to a whisper to speak Julianne's name.

He almost stood and left, he was extremely tempted to do so. But instead he just tilted his head at Maryse and narrowed his eyes, "yeah, why? Is it forbidden? I'm sorry I don't want to force myself into a relationship that I'm not ready for. That's not fair to me, and it's not fair to Aurora." He stopped himself and they just gazed at each other, feeling alienated and upset.

Maryse chewed on her bottom lip, "sorry, I'm...sorry," she abruptly stood, "forget I ever set you guys up. It was obviously a mistake and I don't know what I'm doing." She turned to leave but stopped and looked back at him, "Mike," she sighed, "I'm just trying to help. I can't tell something's off with you and I just am trying to, to help, okay? Don't hate me for caring."

Mike watched her leave, knowing a part of him should feel bad, but honestly he didn't have the energy to work up the emotion in his chest. He sighed to himself and swirled the liquid in his cup around a few times before pushing his chair back and standing up. He tossed his now cold coffee in the trashcan as he left catering hurriedly.

He needed a drink.

* * *

He wasn't sure why he found himself in the hotel bar at three in the afternoon, but he was seated in a bar stool, fingers playing around the rim of his glass as he stared at the array of bottle behind the counter.

Who was he kidding? He knew _exactly _why he was there.

As he was exiting his hotel room, so was Ted DiBiase. Mike couldn't help but glance up at the sound of another door opening and people moving through it, it was instinct to look up at the possibility of other human life in such a desolate bubble he lived in.

What he wasn't ready to see, or expecting, was Alyssa to follow Ted through the door, beaming up at the man.

Alyssa smiling, although surprising and new to Mike, wasn't what caused him to run, tail-between-his-legs to the hotel bar.

The roundness to Alyssa's stomach is what made his blood run cold and his palms begin to sweat.

She wasn't just happier now, she was moving on, starting a life, starting over. She and Ted were expecting a child. She was legitimately glowing as she slipped her hand into Ted's and they began walking down the hall, their backs to Mike, toward the elevators.

He had always assumed the glowing description of a pregnant woman was utter bullshit, but as he stared at Alyssa's profile as she turned to say something to Ted, he knew why everyone said it.

She was absolutely radiant.

His mind had spiraled downward from there.

His brain had taken the reality of Alyssa's carrying a child to the non-reality of Mike and Julianne happily together, expecting a child of their own.

Mike knew it would never happen, his heart broke again, and he found himself in a conversation with a bartender asking for his strongest whiskey.

"Fuck, it's Monday." Mike muttered to himself an hour later, when he already had a few drinks in his system and was surprised he could even remember that.

He needed to get to the arena, but knew he couldn't drive in his state.

His bag with his gear was on the stool next to him and he looked at it and blinked slowly.

"Need me to call you a cab?" The bartender asked, leaning his elbows on the counter, raising his eyebrows at his customer.

"Yeah, that would be great, thanks," Mike replied, nodding slowly as she fetched some bills from his wallet to cover his expenses and then slid off his stool, collecting his bag and exiting the hotel.

He didn't know how he was going to make it through RAW, but he didn't have much of a choice, and it's not like he had anything else to lose, Vince couldn't threaten to take away anything else because Mike had nothing.

**/**

Of all the nights to have a match, it had to be the night he showed up to RAW drunk. And the match just had to be the first on the card.

Mike sighed, aware of the severity of the situation enough to be worried about how he was going to pull off this match.

His on-screen partner in crime, Kevin Kiley, had taken one look at him when he entered the locker room and had known.

"You're drunk," Kevin sounded incredulous and Mike had the decency to flinch guiltily.

"I had a couple—,"

Kevin cut him off before he could even explain and then attempt to make an excuse.

"Look, I know this is your personal business, but this isn't the way to handle things Mike. I don't want to see your career get blown to shit because of some stupid mistakes you're making."

Mike stared at the man. Kevin was always level-headed, a calm guy who went with the flow. Mike must look really terrible if he was worrying Kevin enough to make the man speak up.

"I..." Mike trailed off and sighed.

"Do you need someone to talk to, because, you know I'm here for you man."

"I-I know you are. It's just...hard to talk about."

Kevin nodded slowly, "that's understandable, I'm sure. But I'd much rather you try to talk about it than drink over it." Kevin sat down and looked at Mike expectantly.

He wanted to talk about it now, he wanted Mike to air all of his issues to him in that moment, in an unabridged, unrated broadcast.

A part of Mike really wanted to talk to the man about it, but another, larger part of him stilled his tongue.

"I can't," Mike said softly.

Kevin stood up and sighed, "then I have to go to Vince about this."

Mike's eyes widened as he watched the man, his friend, walk out of the locker room without even glancing back at him.

Mike was so fucked.

/

He'd expected yelling in the middle of the workplace, where Vince could make an example of him in front of everyone.

Instead, they were in a quiet hallway and Vince was staring steadily at Mike as he spoke.

"I don't know what it is you're going through Michael, but I hope that you find some way to cope for the sake of your job. I don't want to release you, but I can't have my top Superstars picking numerous fights in the locker room and showing up to shows drunk. You know I try not to involve myself in locker room squabbles or issues that you can fix amongst yourselves, but this is bigger than that. If you need help, I can provide resources for you."

"No, no, it's just a mistake. I'm sorry sir, it won't happen again," Mike said, his voice low as he forced himself to look Vince McMahon in the eye.

Vince released a breath, collapsing his shoulders before he straightened out his suit coat. "I'm removing you from your match tonight, but I will need a segment between you and Cena. Do you think you can handle that?"

"Yes, I can."

"Good. Good," Vince nodded, "I'll work out some rough details with the writers and we'll get the changed script to you as soon as possible."

"Thank you sir."

"Don't thank me, just fix whatever is going wrong. I like you Michael, I don't want to have to fire you."

And with that Vince McMahon walked away, leaving Mike standing alone, palms sweating and heart racing.

He'd just dodged a bullet.

He leaned against the wall behind him and sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Mike."

His name was spoken apprehensively from somewhere out of his line of sight. He turned his head to find Aurora. Inwardly, he sighed, as her deep brown eyes took in his appearance.

She suddenly seemed to gain her confidence back, "look, I heard what Vince was saying. I told you last week to call me if you needed to talk."

"Everyone keeps saying that," Mike said suddenly, interrupting Aurora's words. The redhead furrowed her eyebrows as she took a few steps toward Mike. "Everyone keeps offering to be there for me to talk to, but honestly, I don't think anyone really gives two fucks. It's a sentiment, something you're supposed to say so you don't feel bad for not understanding or not caring. It's like saying 'I'm sorry' when someone dies. What the fuck is anyone sorry for? They can't control when someone will die, they couldn't stop it, so why apologize? Because they don't care enough, or don't wan to get too emotionally involved, to actually sympathize with the person."

Mike stopped suddenly and lifted his eyes to Aurora, who was gazing at him steadily.

"I don't want to talk about it. And I know you don't really want to listen."

With that he brushed past her and walked off down the hall, leaving Aurora to look down at her hands in front of her and sigh.

Mike didn't understand it, but she really did want to listen to him. She wanted to talk to him about what was bothering him. She wanted to help fix him, to help him move on.

She really wanted to.

* * *

He was at a bar again, this time, however, he was present at a reasonable hour and not the middle of the day.

Mike was gone as soon as he was seated at the bar. He'd sobered up enough to carry out the on-screen segment with Cena and get through the rest of the show and now he was done and wasn't needed on screen for the rest of the week so he could do whatever the fuck he wanted.

He really just wanted to forget his outburst in front of Aurora, he didn't want to feel the guilt that was ebbing away at the corners of his mind for yelling at her. She was just trying to be nice in the only way she knew how and she didn't deserve the attitude he'd given her.

"Too late now," he muttered before tipping back his head, allowing bitter liquid to slide down his throat and he swallowed smoothly before setting the glass back down and smiling at absolutely nothing.

/

The redheaded woman looked familiar, but she also looked hot and Mike found himself appreciating her figure, especially the way her dress hugged the curve of her ass, highlighting the attribute perfectly. He swallowed as he approached her, leaning against the bar next to her nonchalantly.

She turned her brown eyes on him and raised her eyebrows.

"Didn't think you'd be talking to me any time soon," she said.

He smiled at her, working the charm, "why wouldn't I talk to you, sugar."

Her eyebrows furrowed, "Mike, do you know who you're talking to right now."

The fact that she knew his name didn't bother him, he just smirked at her, "I'm talking to you, babe."

"You're drunk," she said, throwing her hands up as she turned back to the bar, away from him, "again."

"You look like the kind of girl who enjoys a good time. I'd be more than happy to show you that good time."

"Oh my god, you _are _hitting on me."

"Is that a yes?"

"No!"

"The girl wants a drink," Mike said, motioning to the bartender.

"No, the girl doesn't want a drink," she said, turning to face Mike.

He raised an unconvinced eyebrow at her.

"When you're drunk you are such a douchebag."

"Most women don't think that the next morning. C'mon, what do you say? One drink and then we could head back to my hotel room and...talk."

He leaned in to her and she could see where this was going immediately.

As he moved in to press his lips to hers she raised her palm, slapping him across the cheek, his head snapping to the side, eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to comprehend the situation.

Aurora watched him with her hands on her hips. "You remember me now?" She asked rhetorically as Mike turned his head back to face her, still blinking in disbelief at what had just transpired.

"You are so drunk and it's not okay Mike." She said, shaking her head. "Let's get you back to the hotel, okay? Before you do something stupid." She paused, "more stupid than what you just tried to do."

/

Aurora carefully leaned Mike against the wall, he was barely conscious and had stumbled the whole walk from the club to his hotel room. Swiftly, she slid her hand into his pocket, finding his key-card.

"Rory?"

She glanced up suddenly, her hand still in his pocket, her face close to his. She could smell the alcohol on his breath which caused her nose to wrinkle in distaste.

"Yeah, Mike, it's me," she said softly.

"My jaw hurts."

"Yeah, sorry about that." She muttered as she straightened up, producing the key-card from him pocket.

She turned the door, sliding the key through the groove and waiting as the light turned green and the lock clicked. She pulled Mike's arm around her shoulders again and led him into the room and to the bed, which he flopped down on immediately, dragging her down with him.

She lay trapped under his arm for a moment, on her side, staring at his face, which was angled slightly to the side so he didn't suffocate on the blanket.

He opened his blue eyes lazily, only one visible to Aurora.

"Why are you being nice to me?"

Aurora stared back at him, "I don't know."

He chuckled slightly, "figures. I have no idea either."

He closed his eyes again and she waited several moments before she removed his arm from around her and stood from the bed.

Trying to be as quiet as possible, she removed his shoes and shirt and then tugged off his jeans, leaving him in his boxers.

"Hey, let's get under the blankets," Aurora suggested in a murmur against Mike's ear.

He mumbled something incoherent but nodded and sluggishly moved, lifting himself and relocating under the sheets on his back.

Knowing better than to leave him in such a way, Aurora rolled him onto his side and then stepped back.

Her eyes were heavy, she'd been up since five that morning, having to report to work early for a Diva's photo shoot where she was needed for hair and make up. Then she'd spent the early afternoon sightseeing with Maryse, adamantly avoiding all questions about the blind date the blond had set up.

She curled up on the chair in the corner of the room, kicking off her heels before folding her legs beneath her. She sighed tiredly and thought she'd just rest her eyes for a moment, stay a little while to make sure Mike would be okay, and then she'd head back to her own hotel room.

/

There was no bright sunlight in his eyes this morning when he awoke, but there was another presence in the room and Mike noticed immediately.

Aurora was curled up on the chair in his hotel room, in a tight-fitting dress, her cheek propped against the chair in a position that didn't look comfortable at all.

Mike squinted at the wall, trying to recall the night before but he came up blank.

His head throbbed and ached and he cursed himself out loud.

Aurora's brown eyes opened at the sudden sound in the quiet, tiredly she rubbed at her eyes as she pushed herself into an upright sitting position, her feet falling to the floor.

"Umm, good morning," she said slowly, dropping her hand into her lap as she turned her brown eyes to Mike, who still lay on his side on the bed, eyes slits as he watched her.

"You probably have a killer headache," she said as she stood and walked over to the counter where she'd set her purse down the night before. She produced a small bottle and shook it, the rattling of pills revealing what the contents were.

She poured two pills out into the palm of her hand, clutching them there as she got a bottle of water from the mini-fridge and then walked over to the side of the bed where Mike was loathing himself for the night before.

"Here," she said, holding the pills out.

Grumpily he took them, their palms brushing as he did so. He swallowed tossed the pills into his mouth and she handed him the water bottle so he could take a sip. After he swallowed she smiled slightly.

"That should help, but I'll head down and get you a bagel and some coffee to help sober you up."

"Why?" He asked, eyebrows furrowed as he sat up, pressing his back to the headboard.

Her eyes followed him as he moved and she lifted one shoulder in a shrug, "why what? Why am I here?"

"Why are you taking care of me? You barely know me."

"Is that really true?" She asked, lifting a brown eyebrow and Mike noticed then that her red hair didn't match her eyebrows.

Then her words finally sunk in and he had to admit, she had a point. On their blind date they had talked for hours, mostly about him and about Julianne.

She took his silence as his admission that she was right and he was wrong. "So, I'll be back in like twenty minutes. Try not to drink yourself into a stupor while I'm gone."

With that she turned to leave his hotel room. She stopped at the door and looked down at herself, realizing she was still in her dress which she'd picked out for the club, not a run to the local coffee shop.

"On second thought, give me like an hour."

Mike stayed silent as she picked up her purse and left. He wanted to think she wouldn't return at all, that she was just saying she would do those things to be nice, but deep down he knew that in an hour there would be a knock at his door and Aurora would be on the other side.

That deep-down part of him had been right, of course.

She returned an hour later with two bagels and two coffees, black, sugar only.

"I didn't know how you like your coffee, so hopefully this will be good enough," she said as she slipped past him through the doorway and into the room. She sat down in the chair she had occupied the night before and set the paper bag of bagels down on the small table. Mike sat down in the other chair and accepted the offered Styrofoam cup of coffee.

"Thanks," he muttered, staring at his reflection in the dark brown liquid. When he glanced up he realized the coffee was the same shade of brown as Aurora's eyes.

"You dye your hair."

It wasn't a question, more of a statement as the words left his mouth and he wasn't sure why he had said them out loud.

Aurora obviously hadn't been expecting it because she stopped halfway through unrolling the top of the paper bag and stared at him with her big, coffee brown eyes.

"Well, yeah, I don't think anyone's hair is naturally this color," she said, fingering a strand of her red hair and she smiled at him.

Slowly her smile receded and she took a breath, "Mike, what happened last night can't happen anymore. You can't do that stuff, you can't drink yourself away. It doesn't just affect how you act, it's affecting your career and your relationships with co-workers. I don't want to see you lose everything because no one is willing to help you deal with your..."

"With my problems? They're _my _problems Aurora. I don't need other people to help me out with them."

"I beg to differ."

He bit the inside of his cheek as they stared at each other, neither willing to back down.

"You have no right to tell me what to do." He argued.

"Then I have no choice." She stated, setting his bagel down in front of him.

"No choice for what?" He asked, eyebrows furrowing.

"I'm going to be around so much you won't have a chance to do anything detrimental to you."

Yeah, he was fucked.

* * *

**_reviews are much appreciated xo_**


	8. Rehab

_So yeah, I was totally listening to Amy Winehouse while I wrote this chapter, she helped a lot._

_I'm sorry if I confused/worried anyone when I wrote on my profile that I was putting one of my fics on hiatus. This fic is NOT on hiatus, it is very much active and I plan on updating it as much as possible._

_Thank you for your amazing reviews. And thank you as well for adding this fic to your alerts and favorites. It all means the world to me because I write these fics for you guys._

_Lyrics are from the song The Phoenix by Fall Out Boy_

_enjoy_

_xoxoxo_

_Angel_

* * *

**-Nothing Left To Lose-**

**Chapter 8: Rehab**

* * *

**Now:**

Mike Mizanin thought of himself as a cactus.

If a cactus was poisonous as well.

He was rude and offensive and attacked people who tried to get closed to him, just like the needles of a cactus.

But not only that, his needles were poisonous because once you were pricked you were infected.

People would just keep coming back and getting bit by the sting over and over and over until he just killed them. Or they finally realized the agony they were putting themselves through and left.

He remembered when he wanted Aurora to leave, wanted her to realize that all he would do was upset her and hurt her.

She'd never looked at it that way, she tried to maneuver between the needles and get straight to his skin. She'd succeeded a few times.

But he was poisonous, and eventually, his poison had succeeded.

* * *

_I'm gonna change you like a remix _

_Then I'll raise you like a phoenix_

* * *

_Then: _

"So, you don't like alcohol, and you don't like coffee. What do you like to drink?" Mike asked, looking honestly baffled that she didn't like either of the two aforementioned beverages. He had realized halfway through the bagel Aurora had bought him that the liquid in her Styrofoam cup was lighter than his and it didn't smell like coffee.

Her brown eyes look up at him and a corner of her mouth lifted, "tea. I like tea." She motioned to her cup and Mike took that to mean that the liquid inside her cup was tea.

She lifted the cup to her mouth, which was lacking its usual peach color, and downed the rest of its contents before she stood up from her seat across from Mike.

"Well, I have to head back to my room to let Gwen know I'm still alive. She was still asleep when I left after changing." She collected her bag before stopping at the edge of the table, her eyes intent on Mike, "I guess I'll see you later, don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."

She turned and made her way to the door. Her hand was already turning the knob when Mike spoke.

"You still sticking to your plan?" He asked.

She glanced back at him over her shoulder, her profile illuminated in a fuzzy halo by the lights of the hotel hallway, "I didn't say anything about changing my mind, did I?"

He shook his head negatively.

"That should answer your question," she smirked before leaving, closing the door behind her soundly.

* * *

Aurora knew that leaving Mike's room didn't warrant the grin that was on her face, but the expression was there anyway.

She quickly made her way down the hall in her favorite pair of flip flops she had changed into this morning. Her feet had been killing her in her cute heels from the night before even though her trip from Mike's room to her own had been relatively shirt.

Rummaging around in her purse, her fingertips grazed the plastic card that would allow her to enter her own hotel room. Although she knew Gwen would most likely be awake and waiting for her on the other side of the door, she was too exhausted to care. Her body ached from sleeping in a chair all night and she knew she had a lot of work ahead of her regarding Mike.

The clicking of the door's lock caused Gwen's head to snap up as she paused mid-stroke, holding her nail polish brush in hand.

The blond eyed Aurora as she stepped fully into the room.

"Well look at you, doing the walk of shame after you left the club with Mike Mizanin last night."

Aurora glanced up at her friend as she set her purse down and toed off her flip flops.

"What?" she asked as she stepped into the bathroom, retrieving a hair tie from her toiletry kit and bundling her red hair into the elastic. She stepped back out into the main room, her eyes sliding past her untouched bed before moving to rest on Gwen.

Gwen was rolling her eyes as she went back to painting her toenails hot pink.

"Was the sex at least good?"

"What?" Aurora echoed her previous question as she turned around to stare at the blond with raised eyebrows.

Gwen looked up from her second coat of nail polish, "you heard me."

It took a minute for Aurora to formulate an answer. "I, uh, wouldn't know because...Mike and I didn't have sex last night."

"Oh really," Gwen replied, obviously unconvinced by her friends response.

"Seriously Gwen," Aurora replied with a weary sigh, sometimes her friend could be so troublesome and flat out annoying.

Sensing Aurora's annoyance and unhappiness Gwen placed the lid back on her nail polish bottle quickly before holding up her hands in innocence, "fine, I believe you!"

Aurora rolled her eyes before turning back to her suitcase, knowing Gwen didn't believe her at all.

* * *

Aurora was unpacking her make up kit onto her station, glad to be free of Gwen's nagging presence for a few minutes, when someone knocked on the door frame leading into the hair and make up room.

The redhead turned at the noise and blinked at the man standing there.

"Uh, hey dad." She said slowly.

Sure, she knew they worked for the same company and that he was there every night that she was but they rarely ever crossed paths. They didn't speak that often either, communication had always been lacking in their relationship.

"Hey Aurora, I just wanted to check up on you. See how things are going."

She stared at him, her brain not comprehending the situation. For years when she was a child, he had never called to 'see how things are going' but now that she's twenty-nine years old he suddenly wants to ask such a courteous and simple question.

"Everything's fine," she replied with a tight-lipped smile, "just keeping busy with work."

"Good," he murmured, honestly feeling as awkward as his daughter did. "How's your mother?"

Suddenly he cared how her mother was fairing too? She blinked at him blankly.

Snapping out of her stupor she turned back to her make up, resuming her activity, "she's great." She replied.

"That's good," her father said softly, "well, I guess I'll see you around baby girl."

"Yeah, yeah you will." No, he wouldn't.

She let her shoulders sag and a tired breath escape her once she knew he was gone and was alone once more in the room. She wanted nothing more than to sit down and run her hands through her hair and scream, but she knew she couldn't do any of that. She had a job to do and there were people around.

Knowing she needed to return to her normal routine she focused back on her work. She didn't want people to treat her differently because of her having a mental breakdown at work, she didn't want people to pity her or pamper her.

She'd always hated being treated like a princess, even though her father was The King.

* * *

She knocked at his door, her face set into an unmovable mask, knowing she was bound to be met with something she didn't approve of, or at least some resistance.

When the door opened she was surprised to see a sober Mike standing before her.

She raised her eyebrows, honestly trying to contain her shock but ultimately unable to.

"I was really hoping you weren't the type of person to stick to your word," he muttered grudgingly but stepped aside anyways, allowing her to enter his hotel room.

She could tell just from his slightly offensive greeting that he was in a bad mood and she tried not to let it affect her. If she was going to make any progress at all with Mike she couldn't let his attitude dictate hers. She had to be impenetrable to his negative outlook and snippy quips. Aurora would have to turn a blind eye to his dark glares.

Aurora wasn't stupid, she wasn't dense; she knew Mike didn't want her there.

Mike would've quite happy sitting alone in his hotel room, pillaging the mini bar until the shelves were empty and he couldn't remember Aurora's name. Maybe he would've gone as far as to not remember his own name, or why he was drinking in the first place.

It would've been possible, until Aurora had promised to show up in his life and prevent him from doing such things. From the firm set of her mouth, to her brightly manicured fingertips on her hips, Mike knew she was here to stay, that she wasn't going to allow him to fuck up while she was around.

The efforts he knew she would put out, her enthusiasm and obvious determination exhausted him. However, there was a small part of his mind that was thanking her, a grateful corner of his consciousness knew that he would never stop down this path unless she helped.

Mike tried to the small quivering of his hand by stuffing them into his pockets and she raised her eyebrows.

He needed to distract her so she didn't see how not drinking was affecting him.

"Why didn't you tell me your father is Jerry Lawler?"

Aurora froze, brown eyes widening at the sudden question. It had come at her out of nowhere. How did he even know who her father was?

"W-what?" She asked, eyebrows furrowing as she turned to face Mike.

His blue eyes had settled on her, noticing the crinkle between her brows as she tried to figure out how he knew. The skin around her coffee brown eyes tightened as she squinted at him in astonishment and confusion and her peach lips parted as she scrambled for a response.

Mike arched a brow, knowing he didn't need to repeat his question.

The confusions and shock left her face and she schooled her expression.

"I didn't think it was important. It never came up. I don't really care." She rattled off several different answers causing Mike to cross his arms and really watch her.

"And what's the real reason?" He asked.

She shrugged as she moved further into the room, brushing past Mike as she set her purse down and then sat on the edge of his bed, the mattress dipping beneath her hands as she leaned back to support her weight and crossed her jean-clad legs.

"I don't go around bragging about who my father is because there's not much to brag about." Her brown eyes had hardened in a way Mike hadn't seen before and he came to the realization that this was a topic she didn't often speak about. He assumed the reason she didn't often speak about her father was because she didn't like to talk about him.

"How so?" He asked, hoping, maybe if he pushed her enough on this topic she would crack and just leave him alone.

She smirked slightly and shrugged her shoulders, "my dad cheated on his wife with my mother. After my parents one night stand, he never saw her in person again until after I was born. He told her over the phone he didn't plan to be a real presence in my life, that I was just a bastard child and a mistake that reminded him of his new divorce. I grew up with my mother telling me that, all the time."

"What about your dad, what did he do directly to you?"

She took a breath, "wasn't there, ever." She pushed herself forward, her palms cupping on top of her knees as she stared at the wall in front of her. "I was an after-thought child, he knew I existed, but only cared about my existence on my birthday. One day a year. That's all I got from my father."

"But he got you the job here, I'm guessing, didn't he?" Mike walked directly into her line of sight, causing her brown eyes to glance up at him.

"He didn't get me the job. He told me about the opening. He heard I was making my living doing small gigs for amateur photo shoots, proms and weddings. He said 'no daughter of his was going to have a half-ass career' so he told me about the WWE, and how they were looking for a make up artist and I applied. I don't know if he's the reason why I got chose. I didn't put his name on my application. Maybe he had something to do with it, maybe he didn't. I don't know, and I don't care."

"So even now, when you work for the same company, you're not close?"

"I barely ever speak to him. Except for my birthday. He calls."

Mike blinked, "he _calls _on your birthday? He doesn't take you to lunch or something?"

She rolled her eyes, "apparently you're not understanding the theme of this story. He never wanted me, he only did what he had to because he made the mistake of knocking up his one night stand. We don't have a real father-daughter relationship because when I was a kid he never made the effort to start one."

Mike stared at her for a long moment and she just looked back at him with round eyes.

"Are you done trying to get me to leave yet?" She asked, her eyebrows angling upward as she gave him a nonplussed look.

He opened his mouth to make an excuse but she just shook her head, chuckling under her breath and waving him off. She didn't want to hear it.

* * *

She stood at the door to his hotel after they'd eaten room service and awkwardly sat and watched television together for several hours. Mike had felt his eyes beginning to droop and knew he wasn't far off from sleep. Aurora had noticed and had decided to make that the cue for her exit.

Now she had her bag on her shoulder as Mike leaned against the door frame and she stood a step away, out in the hall, the patterned carpet a distracting maze beneath her feet. He tiredly looked up at her because he knew she was going to say something to him.

"Don't do anything stupid in the next eight hours while I'm sleeping."

He rolled his blue eyes at her, but honestly, he was too tired to even think of drinking now. That must've been her plan all along.

Awkwardly sitting with a near-stranger, trying to ignore their existence while being frustrated with their presence all at the same time had drained away the energy he would've used to drink.

"So, uh, I'll drive us to the next city tomorrow. I have a rental. I'll meet you in the lobby at eight because we need to be on the road quick. Don't be late, I don't like late people." She didn't leave much room for argument and Mike stared at her, finding it slightly amusing how this petite woman took control of the situation.

"Okay," he agreed reluctantly, just wanting to curl up in his bed and sleep.

She nodded with a triumphant grin, "o-okay, see you in the morning."

After sending him a short wave she turned and made her way down the hall. Mike closed the door behind her, turning back to his room, flicking off the light and stumbling over to his bed. He flopped down onto the plush comforter, his head angled awkwardly so he wouldn't suffocate while lying on his stomach.

His blue eyes stared at the mini-fridge that had gone untouched that night.

He rolled onto his back, rubbing at his eyes before shaking his head.

He'd have hell to pay if he showed up in the morning hung over.

"Not tonight, Jack, not tonight," he muttered before rolling onto his side and roughly tugging the covers over him, falling into a dreamless, sober sleep.

* * *

Aurora hummed to herself as she stood at the gas pump, leaning against the back end of her rental car. Glancing up, her eyes tracked Mike's movements as she stood in line inside the gas station's store, several bags of snacks in his hand, including a bottled water and an iced tea.

They were two hours into their car ride, and another two and half hours from their destination. They had left at eight in the morning, when the lobby to the hotel was still a little deserted. They'd checked out and only run into a few of their co-workers, who looked at the duo strangely. No one had ever assumed that Mike Mizanin and Aurora Holt were friends, they didn't seem to have personalities that would mesh well.

Rory hadn't expected to get along so well with Mike. She was honest with herself and had known she would probably have to work through some awkwardness until he would interact with her.

She was pleasantly surprised when he greeted her in the morning with a smile and a hot cup of tea to go. She'd actually stood and gaped at him for several moments, not knowing what to say.

When she asked what caused his change-of-heart he said he realized she wasn't kidding and that she wasn't leaving.

If Mike was going to have to spend a lot of time with her, he didn't plan on spending the time being angry. That would be too taxing to himself to be angry that much. He'd look past it for now and wait until she got bored with this little chaperoning project of hers. Then he could go back to his previous routine and forget these lost days with Aurora ever happened.

Rory was snapped out of her thoughts when her cell phone started ringing. Hopping over the gas hose she reached into the open driver's side and fished around in her purse for her phone. She sighed heavily when the name 'Ryse' flashed across the screen.

"Hello?" she answered, choosing to play dumb.

"Where are you?" the blond questioned in her french accent.

"Um...at a gas station."

She could practically hear Maryse's eye roll. "You can be so frustrating sometimes."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Ror, who are you driving with? Because you certainly aren't in my rental car with Gwen, Nikki and Brie."

"I'm with a friend."

"You're not with Matt. I called him and he said you canceled on him. So what other friends do you have?"

Rory scoffed, "I have _other _friends, Ryse. I'm not as antisocial as you think. I'm a little offended actually."

"So you're not going to tell me who you're riding with?"

"Nope."

"Fine, I'll get it out of you sooner or later."

"No you won't." Rory say Mike heading toward the car and quickly hung up on her blond friend, grinning at the Ohio native as the gas pump clicked and she removed the nozzle.

"Ready to go?" He asked.

She nodded affirmatively and shut her gas cap before getting into the driver's seat and taking off with her friend. She guessed she could call him a friend.

* * *

Rory sat down with a tired sigh across from her best friend.

Matt just raised his eyebrows at her questioningly but chose to give her a moment, it looked like she needed it.

"Long day with your new travel companion?" He asked.

"Yeah, but it could've been worse." She replied, "and by the way, thanks for not telling Maryse."

"Don't even need to thank me for that. I'll do anything to piss her off."

"It kind of sucks that my two best friends don't get along."

"You've gotten by pretty well so far."

She rolled her eyes as the waitress came to get their drink orders. After the woman left, the two friends continued on, looking back at each other.

"So, are the rumors true?" He asked as he picked up the laminated menu and began to flick through the pages.

"What rumors?" She asked, looking through her own menu, biting her bottom lip in thought.

"That you and Mike slept together."

She was suddenly very glad she didn't have her drink yet, because the iced tea would've been all over the table in front of her.

Matt smirked at her wide-eyed, open-mouthed response.

"I'll take that as a no."

"You sure as hell will. Mike and I did _not _sleep together. That would defeat the whole purpose of me being there."

Matt arched a brow, "and what is the whole purpose of you being there, with Mike?"

She fixed him with a look that told him they'd had this conversation before. She hadn't given him an explanation the first time, and she didn't know why he would think it would be different the second time he asked.

He sighed, "fine, but I was just joking. That rumor isn't going around."

Rory let out a relieved breath, "oh thank god."

"Yeah, Gwen just told me her suspicions."

"Yeah, well, she's wrong and I told her that the other morning but she didn't believe me."

"She's just a gossip, don't worry about her. She likes the attention of pretending she knows something that no one else does."

Rory hummed in agreement before their waitress returned and took their orders. As the waitress walked away Rory watched the woman with a far-away look on her face. When she heard Matt's voice she snapped back to attention.

"So you're really not going to tell me what you're doing with Mike?"

She sighed and ran a hand through her red hair. "Fine. Short version, he's going through some hard times. He lost Julianne a year ago, he had some drama with Alyssa and he's turned to drinking as a way to cope. You know how I am with alcohol. He needs help and no ones been willing to give it, so I thought why shouldn't I help him?"

Matt watched her face as she spoke and knew her explanation was the truth. He sighed and then nodded, "just...be careful, okay?"

She waved him off, "yeah, yeah, whatever."


	9. Attachments

**_Sorry for the wait guys. Life's been getting to me, what can I say?_**

**_Well here's a chapter._**

**_Are there any other reviewers out there? The low numbers are discouraging._**

**_Lyrics are from the song Lonely As You by the Foo Fighters_**

**_Enjoy_**

**_xoxoxo_**

**_Angel_**

* * *

**-Nothing Left To Lose-**

**Chapter 9: Attachments**

* * *

**Now:**

Mike Mizanin became attached to people quickly.

After all, it had only taken three months for him to fall in love with Julianne.

It had only taken a matter of hours to get Alyssa into bed.

And a few car rides for him to become utterly attached to _her_.

He didn't want to be attached to her, because being attached to her meant losing some of the connection he had to Julianne, because he couldn't love both of them at once. One of them was dead. The other, very much alive.

Others noticed how easily attached Mike became to people, because after a few days, everyone assumed he was dating _her._

So he had to distance himself.

He needed to learn to distance himself.

That's why he was locked in this hotel room.

* * *

_What would I do_

_Lonely as you _

_Pleasure or pain _

_I can't choose_

_._

_Wake up, you're dreaming _

_I can't stand your screaming_

_Drowning out these prayers_

_Just some words without meaning _

_Spare all the breaching _

_My secrets worth keeping_

_No one understands like I do _

_._

_Every now and then_

_You're down and out my friend _

_Down and out again, _

_Down and out again_

_But I'm down with you _

* * *

_Then: _

Mike wasn't sure why, but he was staring at her as she drove, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, teeth biting into her peachy lower lip, coffee brown eyes focused on the haze of her headlights on the road.

They were driving through the night to their next destination, the last destination they would have to drive to themselves for a couple weeks. They'd be flying out to their next city after that, but for now they settled for tires on pavement because it was as good as it would get.

He couldn't understand why he was suddenly taking such an interest to her. He'd been finding it hard lately to be rude to her. He blamed it on the fact that she was actually being nice to him and giving him space while at the same time invading his privacy. He couldn't explain it, but she made herself comfortable in his life without forcing herself through the door. He'd let her in, and now he couldn't get her out.

"You're staring Michael," she said, her eyes casting over to look at him briefly before returning tot he road.

"Hmm," was his only reply, neither confirming or denying, he just continued to watch her.

The dim streetlights cast a glow on her skin, which wasn't too pale nor was it a darkened tan. Her eyes were focused, pupils dilated to gain as much light as possible for vision, her peach colored mouth was set, her jaw tight. Her red hair was curly and unruly and piled up on top of her head, revealing her slender neck that flared out to her thin shoulders and the swell of her chest.

Mike hadn't admired another woman like this since Julianne, not in such a way that didn't require lust.

An eyebrow arched upward in question at his staring, she wanted a reason as to why, but he honestly couldn't give her one.

"Why are you doing this?" He asked suddenly, his voice low, weighed down with exhaustion.

"Driving? Because you said you were tired." She replied, not even taking her eyes off the road, but her hands repositioned themselves on the wheel and her teeth let go of her bottom lip.

"No, babysitting me," he clarified, watching her closely for a reaction.

She pressed her lips together, eyebrows lifting along with her shoulders in a small shrug. "I wouldn't call it babysitting."

"What would you call it?"

"You need help Mike. You were heading down a path you really don't want to travel because it only leads you to shit and pain. I, I just thought I could help."  
"Why do you think you can help me?"

"I," she paused, her head turning so she could glance at him briefly, "because I'm actually trying. I don't see anyone else here trying to stop you from doing something stupid. I actually noticed something was wrong, I'm more perceptive than others, I'm more realistic. I," her words had come out in a rush and now she turned her head back to the road, "I wanted to help, I don't know if I'm really making a difference, but I hope I am."

A corner of Mike's mouth tilted upward, "I think you are."

She blinked, shock evident on her face for a moment before she smiled, her chin falling down slightly, bangs tumbling over her ears before she tossed her head back, clearing the red strands from her face.

He closed his eyes, feeling sleep pull at him. As he drifted off, he thought he could hear Aurora murmur "thank you" but then suddenly he was in dreams filled with blond hair and blue eyes and tears and rain and heartache.

/

"Mike," Julianne's lips formed his name as her hand gripped his and then she was falling, eyes closing.

He was on his knees beside her in a moment, "Julianne, wake up. Wake up. _Wake up_."

"Mike, wake up!"

His eyebrows furrowed at the words and he blinked his eyes against harsh sunlight.

Leaning in through the passenger doorway was Aurora, her red hair now hanging around her shoulders, free from it's elastic band. She had her eyebrows raised and a cautious smile on her peach lips.

"Hey there, sleepyhead."

Mike rubbed at his eyes, brushing his fingers through his hair as he undid his seat belt.

"How long was I out?"

"About three and a half hours."

"Have you been driving for all that time?"

"Yep. We're here now. Figured we could get some breakfast then head up to our rooms and get a few more hours of sleep."

"I'm sure you could use it," Mike murmured as he nodded in agreement with her plan and she moved away from the car so that he could get out.

He fell into step beside her as she made her way toward the hotel. Passing through the automatic glass doors into the lobby, Rory glanced over at him. She looked away quickly, but a few steps later as they turned toward the hotel restaurant she glanced at him once more.

He caught her gaze the third time as they waited to be seated. He raised an eyebrow in question and he noticed her cheeks tinge the slightest pink.

"Uh, were you...dreaming earlier?" She asked, moving her eyes away, glancing around the room.

His brows furrowed, surprised by how shy and flighty she was acting, she was usually so straight forward, he wasn't sure how to interact with this Aurora.

"Why do you ask?" He questioned, rubbing the back of his neck.

Aurora's brown eyes met his with a solemn expression, "you said her name."

The hostess smiled at them in a customary way as she said there was a table ready for them. Mike motioned for Aurora to walk ahead of him and she did, following behind the hostess to their table where they sat across from each other. Aurora ordered tea and Mike coffee and still they didn't make eye contact or speak to one another.

The waitress was gone after leaving their drinks and they still had not spoken.

Aurora's sudden heavy sigh as she set her palms down on the table caused Mike to glance up at her.

"Look, I didn't mean to make things awkward by bringing it up." She shrugged, "I'm not sure why I brought it up, okay? We've been doing really well with all of this, and I don't want one stupid question to fuck that up. So, please, talk to me about what's going through your head. That's why I'm here."

Mike stared a there for a long moment, not saying anything.

She sighed, frowning and chewing on the inside of her cheek. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in her seat, feeling frustrated with the situation.

"I have nightmares about the day she died."

She sat up suddenly, her back straightening, eyes widening as she listened intently. "Often?"

"There's no pattern really. On days I think about her a lot usually. It's always the same, happens the same way it did in real life and I can't do anything to stop it."

"You're trapped in that memory."

"Yeah, something like that," Mike replied softly, eyes staring at the table top without really seeing it.

"You don't really remind me of her. I think that's why I don't mind having you around." He said randomly, not sure why the words left his lips and entered into the air.

Aurora stared at him, brown eyes round and blinking. "If I reminded you of Julianne would you have pushed me away?"

"I don't know. I don't know."

* * *

"Holy shit, it's cold!" Aurora yelled as she stepped out of the rental car, feeling a shiver roll through her as the cold wind whipped under the fabric of her shirt. "Why didn't I think of bringing a coat?"

"You think you're invincible against the weather," Mike supplied as he stepped out in a warm leather jacket, smirking at her.

"Sounds like something I would think." She muttered, wrapping her arms around herself as Mike popped the trunk and removed their bags.

"Why did we have to park so far away from the door?" She asked, rising up on her toes to look past the rows of parked cars to where the entrance to the arena was.

"It's not my fault we got here late. You're the one who wanted to watch the _Friends_ reruns up until the last minute." Mike said, pointing at her as he shouldered his bag and closed the trunk.

"It's my favorite show," she huffed.

"You said that you've seen every episode, so then why did you have to see the end of the one that was on?"

"It's the episode where Rachel tells Ross she's pregnant! I _love _that episode."

"I caught that."

Aurora rolled her eyes but her attitude died when another shiver wracked her body caused by the cold.

A rustling sound caught Aurora's attention, the distinct crinkling of leather, causing her to look up in time to watch Mike place his leather jacket around her. The warmth the jacket provided was heavenly and for a moment she stood stunned, she would never expect such a kind gesture from Mike.

Mike bent to pick up his bag as Rory slid her arms into the jacket, relishing the heat and taking in Mike's musky yet sophisticated cologne.

"Better?" He asked, glancing back at her over his shoulder as he began walking.

She smiled at him, her coffee-colored eyes lighting up, "yeah, much, thank you."

"Don't mention it."

And she knew he meant that.

/

Mike sighed to himself, running his hand through his hair and down over his face, scrubbing at his chin as he went over his lines once more. He was still making up for showing up drunk to RAW and he knew he couldn't mess up any on-screen opportunity he was given. His segment needed to be flawless, it needed to gain the attention of the fans, or he was screwed and wouldn't be getting the title back any time soon.

"Mike. Mike, hey!" The enthusiastic greeting got Mike to turn around. His blue eyes locked onto the approaching figure of Shawn Michaels and his mouth went dry, throat closing up.

Shawn hugged the Ohio-native warmly and then pulled back, smiling as he asked, "how have you been."

Mike knew he had to fake happiness in his response, but he wasn't sure how well it was going to come across. He wasn't sure he could make it believable. "I've been," Mike shook his head, trailing off, "I've been."

Suddenly heeled footsteps approached them and Mike turned out of curiosity, taking any distraction he could at that moment.

And there was Aurora, just a few feet from him, walking down the hall with his leather jacket folded over her arm and a smile on her peach lips. When she was close enough and noticed both Mike and his companion had stopped talking she was quick to apologize. "Oh, um, sorry to interrupt," Rory said, looking between Mike and Shawn with a pleasant smile.

"I know you. You work in hair and make up right? You're Lawler's daughter." Shawn said, eyes narrowing at her in thought as he tried to place her.

At the mention of her father her smile strained but it was almost imperceptible. "Yeah, yeah that's me." She then turned to Mike, holding out the folded up material she cradled in her arms. "I realized I forgot to give you your jacket back before I went off to hair and make up. And I, uh, I wanted to say good luck tonight."

Mike took the jacket from her, "thanks," his initial response came out in a strangled, warbled voice so he cleared his throat and repeated in a stronger voice, "thank you."

She smiled then and turned her attention back toward Shawn, "sorry, I was a little rude a second ago. I apologize, I'm Aurora Holt," she held out her hand which Shawn took with a forgiving smile.

"Very nice to meet you Miss Holt. I must say, you're a lot better looking than your father."

She laughed, and no one would've guessed that it was a forced sound as she shook her head bashfully, "I would hope so. A lot goes into me looking like this," she said motioning to her face and outfit, "making people beautiful is what I do for a living."

"And you do a fine job of that," Shawn said with a nod.

Mike watched Aurora interact with Shawn as they carried on a light conversation for a few more lines, where she mentioned his name and placed a hand on his arm, drawing him back into the conversation. She met his eyes for a moment, knowing he had zoned out.

Aurora knew exactly who Shawn Michaels was. She knew him not as the The Showstopper or The Heartbreak Kid. No, she knew him as the father of Julianne.

If Mike had been talking to any other person she would've waited until a later time to return his jacket. But as she turned the corner at caught sight of the stricken look on Mike's face, and recognized the man that Mike was speaking to, she knew she had to step into action. She intercepted flawlessly, stopping the awkwardness before it could begin, working her charm thoroughly, saving Mike.

She could tell how grateful he was by the relieved look in his blue eyes and the way his hand fell to the small of her back and applied a gentle pressure as he rejoined the conversation, speaking with Shawn and Aurora.

Shawn was studying the two young adults in front of him vigilantly, taking in the way they comfortably stood with each other, Mike's hand at her back, her fingers gentle on Mike's arm, the calm look in Mike's eyes when he had caught sight of Aurora.

Shawn's phone began to ring, cutting their conversation short. He checked his caller ID and then glanced up at the pair apologetically. "Sorry, I need to take this but..." his blue eyes, so similar to Julianne's, turned to Mike, "I'm glad you're finding it possible to move on." He nodded, more to himself than anything and then turned away, answering his ringing cell phone before Mike or Aurora could respond.

Aurora chose not to say anything about Shawn's comment, instead turning to Mike and patting him on the chest reassuringly, "you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks for stepping in."

"Don't mention it," she said with a wink before she turned and walked off, heading back to her post in hair and make up.

* * *

Mike leaned back in his seat as the other passengers filed into the aircraft and took their seats. He glanced over at Aurora, watching as she slid her purse under the seat in front of her and then sat back, buckling the seat belt and pulling the strap tight.

Several minutes passed and no words were spoken as the passengers settled down and the stewardess began her explanation of the safety measures at the front of the plane. The silence didn't begin to bother Mike until Aurora's face tightened, as did her grip on the armrest next to her.

The plane had just begun to move, reversing away from the terminal and turning toward the runway, they hadn't even lifted off the ground and Aurora already had a death grip on her seat, jaw clenched tightly, eyes shut.

"What's wrong?" He asked, turning his head to look at her.

She opened one of her brown eyes to look at him, "what?"

"You haven't spoken in at least ten minutes, something must be wrong." He explained, prompting for an answer.

He watched her huff out a breath as she closed her eyes once more.

"I don't like plane rides," she whispered out softly as suddenly the plane lurched and they were airborne, pressed back into their seats as the plane began to ascended in a diagonal path.

Mike made a small 'o' with his mouth and watched as her whole body tensed. Helplessness suddenly grasped him and he didn't know what to do. He could hear her accelerated breathing as he sat next to her, could see the strain of her muscles as she held herself completely still and the urge to protect her, to save her from this fear overwhelmed him.

His hand pried her fingers from the armrest.

She opened her eyes for a split second, watching as Mike wrapped her hand in his and gave her a reassuring squeeze.

He turned in his seat to look at her, noticing she'd closed her eyes again. "Hey," he said softly, "look at me."

Hesitantly she opened her eyes, meeting his gaze.

"Just focus on me, okay?"

She nodded slowly and he knew he needed to distract her and quickly even he was going to keep her from having a full-blown panic attack.

"What's your favorite childhood memory?" He asked, keeping his eyes locked with hers.

She looked confused for a moment before he quickly prompted, "what is it? Tell me about it."

"My seventh birthday," she answered in a tone that was only slightly above a whisper.

"Uh huh," he hummed, trying to keep her talking.

"I was obsessed with dogs, I wanted a puppy so badly. I wanted a big Saint Bernard that I could snuggle with and use as my own pillow but my mom always told me no, that we couldn't have a dog in our house. The day after my birthday she took me to the pet store. They had a litter of these mutt, mixed puppies. She told me I could pick out any one I wanted."

The smile on her face was something Mike would never forget, it was an unadulterated happiness, a gleam of a child that was often forgotten in their adult lives.

"Despite wanting a big dog, I picked the runt of the little. He was this mottled brown thing but he was adorable in my eyes. He was the only pet I ever had as a kid."

"What did you name him?"

"Ringo."

"After the Beatle?"

"Yeah, they're my favorite band. My mom's friend who would always babysit me when I was little listened to them constantly."

Mike smiled back at her and they went silent for a moment. Aurora stared at him, studying his face as she wondered why he'd started asking her such random questions. She suddenly couldn't exactly remember where she was, she started to turn her head to look around when Mike spoke up.

"You made it."

She looked back at him, obviously confused.

"We're up in the air."

Then it all returned to her, they were on a plane, he'd been distracting her during take off.

She let out a breathy laugh as a relieved smile curled her lips and she leaned heavily back in her seat. She'd never handled a take off so well. Never before had someone been able to distract her so well. She didn't even have to take any pills for the anxiety.

Letting her head fall to the side, she smiled at Mike, "thank you."

"No problem," he replied, with a shrug and that's when he noticed that his hand was still wrapped warmly around hers. He stared at their hands and his gaze attracted Rory's as well.

She felt her cheeks heat up as she realized she was still holding onto his hand. They both quickly released one another and Aurora dropped her eyes to her lap as Mike stared at the spot where their hands had been connected. The physical contact had felt so normal, so comfortable he had barely noticed it all that time she had been talking.

Now that their hands were separated he didn't know what to do, didn't know where his hands should go or what they should be doing. Should they be folded in his lap? Should he lay them palm down on the armrest?

He took a deep breath to calm himself before he glanced over to Aurora, to see her cheeks tinged pink just slightly.

He'd made her blush. Somewhere deep inside his chest a masculine pride was rejoicing in the fact that he had that kind of effect on Rory, but he stifled it down as he cleared his throat.

"Uh, ah, sorry about...that."

"No, no need to apologize. I..it helped, I appreciate it." She didn't meet his eyes but he nodded in response and they fell into a silence as the plane continued on its route through the air and clouds.

/

Talking in the row in front of him caused Mike's eyes to open.

He hadn't been truly asleep, only in that state where one is almost asleep but still slightly awake and aware of their surroundings.

The stewardess with her drink cart was stopped in the row before his, taking orders.

His shoulders ached from his cramped positions and he shifted slightly before noticing the weight leaning against him. Hair tickled his chin as he turned his head.

He could only glimpse Rory's bright red hair as she slept soundly with her head resting on Mike's shoulder.

A part of him wanted to remove her head from his shoulder, forcing himself not to get attached because eventually she would leave his life as well. Aurora would waltz out just like Julianne and Alyssa had and there was really nothing he could do about it. So, he should try to lessen the pain now by refusing to like her, refusing to let Rory grow on him.

Another part of him was relieved that she was comfortable enough on the plane flight to fall asleep. This side of him was also proud of himself for distracting her and calming her when she was afraid. He didn't think he would have that much of an affect on her.

The stewardess with the drink cart stopped at their row, pulling Mike from his thoughts as she asked him if he wanted anything to drink.

"Just water," he said in reply.

"Anything for the lady?" She asked, she was an middle-aged woman with a kind face and still vibrant red hair.

"Um, tea, if you have any."

"Sure do." The woman replied with a beaming smile, "I must say, you two are an adorable couple. I watched the way you calmed her down while the plane was taking off, that was so sweet."

Mike stared back, realizing this woman mistook him and Aurora as a couple. He went to correct her, but the smile on the woman's face as she looked between Mike and Rory was so genuinely pleased he couldn't bring himself to contradict her.

Instead, he just smiled at the woman and she dismissed herself to continue taking drink orders, promising to be back with their drinks soon.

As she ambled down the aisle Mike leaned back in his seat. If this one woman saw them and thought they were a couple, what did others think? Did most people assume they were dating? Did people look at them and think they're in love.

He sighed to himself, brow furrowing, perplexed.

What did their coworkers think when they saw the two together? Did they assume the same things as the stewardess?

What would Alyssa think if sh saw them together.

What would Julianne think?

As he stared at the ceiling of the plane, he forced himself to replay all of his memories of Julianne over his eyelids, trying to etch her image into his memory because details had already begun to fade.

He was not getting attached to Rory, because he was already too attached to the memory of Julianne.

* * *

_Thank you to DeathDaisy, ThatGirlWithTheiPod, ambrosesaysnope, and RatedrKjErIcHo for reviewing chapter 8._

_If someone wants to make a banner for this fic, that would be a-mazing!_

_xoxo_


	10. Nosy

**I have no idea why, but suddenly I've been hit with this intense inspiration for this fic. This chapter came to me so easily, it was crazy.**

**Still not a lot of reviews. I'd like to hear from more of you, but I can't force you to review. I am very grateful to those of you who do leave reviews. They make my day, they tell me what I'm doing well, and what I'm doing poorly, they help start conversations with my readers. **

**Lyrics are from the song Wherever You Will Go by The Calling **

**Enjoy**

**xoxoxo**

**Angel**

* * *

**-Nothing Left To Lose-**

**Chapter 10: Nosy**

* * *

**Now:**

Mike Mizanin wasn't a private person.

He was a WWE Superstar, his life was common knowledge to several thousand people, especially to those who could use the internet. And that was practically the whole world.

But she on the other hand, was extremely private, she didn't divulge information much. Maryse had complained to him several times, on many different occasions about how Mike got to know everything but Maryse was kept out of the loop.

But, unlike Mike, _she _was nosy. She had to know _everything_. She didn't like not knowing.

Her nosiness had been the cause of many of their arguments because she was a hypocrite.

She didn't like it when he called her a hypocrite but it was true.

He just didn't think it was fair that she could easily learn everything about him and he still knew next to nothing about her.

Just, unfair.

* * *

_So lately, been wondering _

_Who will be there to take my place _

_When I'm gone, you'll need love _

_To light the shadows on your face _

_._

_If I could, then I would _

_I'll go wherever you will go _

_Way up high or down low _

_I'll go wherever you will go _

_._

_And maybe, I'll find out _

_The way to make it back someday _

_To watch you, to guide you _

_Through the darkest of your days_

_._

_I know now, just quite how_

_My life and love might still go on _

_In your heart, in your mind _

_I'll stay with you for all of time _

* * *

_Then:_

Aurora let out a surprised squeak as someone suddenly took a hold of her arm in a vice-like grip. The long, pin-straight, platinum blond hair gave the person's identity away immediately as Aurora glanced over at whoever had grabbed her.

"Ryse? What is going on? Why are you dragging me like this? Where are we going?" Rory rattled off the questions at her best friend, brows pulled up in confusion.

"We need to talk," Maryse said, barely glancing back at her friend. She was convinced Aurora had been withholding information from her. Information that she was privy to as Aurora' best friend. She'd be damned if Rory told Matt about this before she told her. It was unacceptable and unfair that Aurora always went to Matt first to tell people things. Maryse hated being second-best to anyone, she was meant to be a first priority.

Quickly she turned, yanking Aurora with her into an empty locker room. She pulled Rory down onto a bench next to her and turned to her redheaded friend, folding her arms over her ample chest and raising an eyebrow expectantly.

Rory stared at her best friend completely unaware of why they were alone in a locker room and Maryse was seemingly upset.

Aurora shook her head slowly, "what..." she drug the word out in a questioning tone.

Maryse huffed as she realized Aurora was clueless. She unfolded her arms, placing her palms face down on the bench as she crossed her legs and then she began talking.

"What is this I hear about you dating Mike?" Before Aurora could even get in a word edgewise, Maryse was continuing, "Nikki told me she saw you two at the hotel together, said she heard that you two are sharing a room. What the hell is that?"

"Ryse, Mike and I aren't dating." Rory cut in quickly, knowing she didn't have much time to get any explanation in.

"Oh honey," Maryse's face softened as she angled her head to the side, eyebrows pulling up, "Don't worry about dating my ex. If you want to date Mike, go ahead. You have my permission to forgo the girl code on this one."

Aurora's brows furrowed as she stared at the French woman, "although I appreciate how understanding you are being about the supposed, hypothetical situation, Mike and I are just friends."

"With benefits?" Maryse asked hopefully.

"No," Rory quickly shut the blond done, "there is nothing sexual or romantic going on between me and Mike." Aurora hoped she had made herself clear enough and that Maryse would drop the subject and let her return to her work, but that was honestly hoping for too much. Maryse was a nosy friend, who liked to ask questions and always had to be included 'in the loop.'

"There isn't? Then why are you sharing a room?"

"I'm tired of Gwen constantly babbling about Matt," Aurora began as Maryse pulled a face at the mention of the redhead's other best friend, Rory shot the blond a look telling her to cut it out and Maryse held her hands up innocently, "and Mike's in need of a friend. A friend who can be a good influence."

"Well, you are Miss Goody-Two-Shoes," Maryse mumbled with a shrug and a bored look.

Aurora glared at her friend. There was nothing wrong with the lifestyle Aurora chose to live and she knew that, Maryse knew that. But, Maryse also felt that Aurora needed to loosen up a bit and have some fun. The redhead was constantly only focusing on work and getting by day to day, or spending time on these projects she set up for herself. Her current project was Mike, Maryse figured.

"Look, we're just being travel buddies right now, driving with each other from city to city. We flew here together, he even managed to calm me down during take-off."

Maryse blinked at her friend, "what? _Mike _managed to calm your plane anxiety?" Maryse looked slightly hurt, "_I _can't even calm you down on a plane, and I'm your goddamn best friend. I have to drug you."

"I don't know how he even did it. He just distracted me, started asking me random questions about my childhood and it worked, somehow." Aurora shrugged, just as shocked as Maryse. No one had ever been capable of completely calming or distracting Aurora on a plane during take-off, Maryse and Matt included. They'd tried numerous different tactics and they'd all failed.

"He's one miracle away from being a fucking saint," Maryse muttered angrily before a question popped into her head, "did you tell him about your childhood?"

"Parts of it."

Maryse was shocked by this. Aurora was always a very private person, she didn't divulge personal information easily. It had taken nearly a year of constant friendship for Maryse to even find out the identity Aurora's father, and it took even longer to hear about the relationship, or lack of a relationship, Aurora had with Jerry Lawler.

"Does he know...about your dad?"

"Yeah."

"You told him? Already?"

"I didn't tell him, Ryse, he overheard me and my father talking during RAW. Figured it out himself and brought it up, I couldn't deny it. He _knew _it was true already."

"I can't believe it," Maryse whispered, a hand flying up to her chest to press over her heart dramatically, "I'm being replaced...again." She threw her hands in the air as she stood up and began pacing the empty locker room

Aurora rolled her eyes, remaining seated, not moved by Maryse's theatrics, "Maryse, I am not replacing you. When did I ever replace you before?" She asked curiously, eyes narrowing as she pulled her red hair over her shoulder and began to comb her fingers through it. She needed to change her hair soon, she was getting bored of the length and color already.

"Matt." Maryse replied quickly, regaining Aurora's attention.

Aurora raised her eyebrows at her blond friend, "really Ryse?" She asked disbelieving, in a tone one would use with a indignant child. "Matt _did not_ replace you."

"He's your _'best friend_'," Maryse said, jealousy evident in her tone as she made air quotes with her fingers, her accent heavy.

"He's my male best friend. You are my female best friend. Two completely separate positions in my life. No one got replaced, no one is getting replaced. Mike's just making his own place in my life." Aurora stopped suddenly, realizing the implications of her words.

Maryse smirked, "you sure you're just friends?"

Aurora glared darkly, not appreciating Maryse's smug remark.

* * *

He wanted to be angry with her, he wanted to pull away from her, he wanted to create distance, but he just couldn't.

She was too kind, too simple, too gentle with her smile and coffee brown eyes and her creativity.

This was his train of thought as he stared at her, a hint of a smile on his mouth as she tried on yet another pair of ridiculous sunglasses. This time, the lenses were shaped like stars in an annoying, loud purple color. She made a face, dropping her jaw and raising her eyebrows and Mike found himself laughing at how goofy she could be.

Sure, she was all seriousness and stubbornness most of the time, but in that moment she was simple and funny and carefree.

"Your turn," she said as she spun the rack of sunglasses, looking for a pair she found suitable for Mike. "Oh, here we go," she said with a big nod, pulling a pair off. Mike grimaced as she showed him the pair of glasses.

"Why are they shaped like martini's?" he asked with a chuckled in his throat.

Aurora shrugged, "why not. Now put them on and take a picture." She thrust the glasses into his hands as she turned to the rack and put on a pair that consisted of two pink crowns made of plastic surrounding the dark lenses. Mike shook his head but did as she asked, pulling out his phone as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, tugging her into the view of the camera.

"Make a silly face, this is going on _Twitter_," she said as she twisted her mouth into an expression that Mike couldn't name, but it looked equally hilarious and adorable. Mike did the same, scrunching up his face as he turned back to the camera and took the picture.

"Let me see," she said excitedly as he retracted his arm from in front of them. He handed her the phone and she went to his photo gallery on his phone and stopped. Among the grid of photos Aurora caught sight of a face.

The woman was beautiful, with curling dirty blond hair and blue eyes that could take your breath away with a single look.

"That's her," Aurora said, clicking on the picture with her thumb to enlarge it.

Mike frowned slightly as Julianne's face grew on the screen. He'd almost forgotten about the picture, Julianne had taken it so suddenly one day. They'd been walking down the hall in some nameless arena, he was texting someone when she snatched the phone out of his hands and then leaned into him, pressing their cheeks together and she'd taken the picture. Julianne was always a serious type, and he'd noticed she wasn't a fan of taking pictures of himself, so the moment had shocked him, seeing her blithe smile.

"Yeah," he replied with a shallow nod, his voice constricted with emotion, "that's Julianne."

Aurora studied the woman for a long moment, she could see how someone could fall in love with this woman so quickly. "She's beautiful," Aurora breathed.

Mike stared at the picture and just nodded in agreement.

Aurora glanced up at Mike, seeing the lost look clouding his blue eyes with emotion. She cleared her throat and exited out of the picture, handing his phone back to him. "Sorry for being so nosy," she apologized quickly as he took his phone back. He stared at the blank screen for a moment before sliding the device back into his pocket.

"Don't be, it's okay." He murmured.

"Do you want to..." she trailed off as Mike began talking.

"You know, thinking back on it all, I'm not sure if I ever saw Julianne really smile because all that time we were together, she knew she was going to die. How could he possibly really smile when she knew she was dying." Mike looked confused, his eyes narrowed, jaw twitching.

"Her smile in that picture Mike," Aurora said, placing a hand on his arm, "that was a real smile, trust me. You made her happy, I know, because no girl could smile like that unless the person she was with was making her happy enough to do it."

Mike stared at Aurora, his blue eyes meeting her brown ones. She held his gaze, not backing down. This was what she was here for, to stop him from disappearing into a depressed shell when he was reminded of Julianne, she was here to stop him from coping with his pain through alcohol, she was here to show him that there were good emotions connected to remembering Julianne.

/

Aurora was tired after a day of traveling, but now she had work and she was running a low amount of caffeine. She hadn't eaten since that morning, before the stop at the gas station with the silly sunglasses. She was starving and exhausted and really didn't want to interact with humanity.

"Hey Rory. It's been a while since we've properly talked."

But that was the voice of John Cena and as he spoke, her attitude did a 180, so quickly he heard barely spun.

As Aurora glanced over at the taller man, John gave her one of his charming, dimpled smiles. The butterflies in her stomach fluttered as she reacted like a teenaged school girl. The way John Cena made her feel was utterly ridiculous, but those were her emotions and she couldn't change them. She had a thing for John Cena, she knew he could be a bit of a playboy, but she was known for changing guys, it was her thing.

She honestly just wanted a shot with the face of the WWE, because it was a goddamn beautiful face that she'd been pining over for years, since she started working for the company. That first time he'd flashed her that dimpled grin she'd been lost, she completely swooned and the infatuation had only gotten worse with time.

"Yeah, it has. A month or something like that." She replied, trying to hide the fact that she knew exactly how long it had been since their last conversation. Their most recent conversation had occurred the Monday Night RAW before WrestleMania. It had been in catering and she'd been drinking tea and browsing _Pinterest_ on her phone. Their second most recent conversation had been the day she met Mike, after the Ohio-native had scratched her rental car.

"It's been two and a half months," John said before smiling awkwardly, "not that I'm counting."

Aurora smiled back at him, disbelieving that John Cena actually remembered the exact date they had last spoken. Never before had John shown so much of an interest. Maybe things were starting to turn in her favor when it came to romance. Her chances with John were probably much better than her chances with Mike.

It would probably be safer for her to dream of dating John than dreaming of dating Mike. Pursuing a relationship with Mike would only lead to complications, pain and heartbreak for her. Mike was too much of a wild card. Some days he seemed utterly broken and then the next he would be completely functional.  
"How have you been?" John asked as he moved along the catering line behind Aurora.

She pressed her lips together, blinking, trying to get a hold of herself, "um, I've been good. Same old stuff. Working, traveling, trying to keep myself sane."

He chuckled lowly, blue eyes sparkling and Aurora felt her breath catch in her throat.

Clearing her throat, she continued along, serving herself a bowl of soup, grabbing a package of saltine crackers before moving to a separate table to make herself a cup of tea. She was surprised when John followed.

"How have you been?" She asked, trying to just stay afloat in conversation with him.

"Good. It's always great when I'm WWE Champion. The fans always get really into it."

"You're really good with the fans. Especially the kids, they just adore you. So do their moms. So do most women, actually." She felt a blush heat her cheeks as embarrassment flashed through her. Mentally she cursed herself as she stared down at her mug of tea. She picked up her tray and went to find a table when John spoke.

"Are you one of those women?" John asked, an undertone of confidence in his voice, like he already knew the answer and that answer would stroke his ego.

Aurora forced herself to appear cool as she tucked in her chin, looking up at him through her lashes, "I don't know. Do you think I'm like most women?" She arched a brow before turning and walking over to the table where Phil and Matt sat, setting her tray down and pulling out a seat.

Cena smirked to himself, nodding slightly. There was something about the redhead's personality that he liked, something that belied a fiery lover in the bedroom. He wanted to discover exactly what she liked to do behind closed doors because he knew she was one of those women who adored him. He was aware that she was attracted to him, and he would use that knowledge to his advantage.

John Cena always got what he wanted. And he wanted Aurora Holt.

* * *

"You know what I realized today?" Aurora asked as she set her purse and make up bag down on top of her suitcase as she and Mike entered their hotel room.

"What?" Mike asked as he tugged his shirt over his head, throwing it onto his bag. Aurora stared at his bare torso. She saw it all the time when he was in his ring gear, but something was different about seeing him shirtless in a pair of jeans that fitted him nicely.

She glanced away when she noticed him turn his head, waiting for her answer.

"You owe me." She replied, hoping he didn't notice the quiver in her voice as she pulled her pajamas out of her suitcase and then disappeared behind the bathroom door. She began to wash her face, clearing off her make up, running a brush through her red hair before tying it up into a sloppy bun.

"For what?" Mike called through the door, eyebrows furrowing. He unzipped his jeans and stepped out of the denim. He sat down on the end of his bed and leaned over to pull off his socks, balling them up and throwing them toward his suitcase against the wall.

"For scratching my car on the day we met." She replied, lifting her voice so that it carried through the bathroom door as she slipped out of her jean shorts and top and into a comfier pair of shorts and a loose fitting tank top.

"I apologized for that." Mike said, shaking his head, a smile on his lips despite her accusations.

"That doesn't make up for the damage you caused." She said as she opened the bathroom door and padded over to her suitcase, placing her clothes back inside before turning to her bed and pulling back the covers. She was exhausted.

"Fine, how do I make it up to you?" Mike asked as he got under the sheet of his own bed, picking the remote up off the night stand but not turning on the TV just yet.

"You owe me dinner." She replied, lying down and rolling onto her side to face Mike.

"Okay, where do you want to go?" He said with a shrug, feeling that this issue would be easily solved. He turned his eyes to the TV, pressing the power button on the remote.

"Oh I don't mean that kind of dinner. I mean a home cooked meal." Aurora replied, her eyebrows lifting as she smirked.

Mike turned his head and fixed her with a look. "And how do you expect me to do that in a hotel room?" It wasn't that he couldn't cook, he had a few meals that he had perfected, but he didn't have the means to prepare any of those recipes in the hotel rooms they stayed in.

She smiled slyly. "I don't know, get creative, or allow me to hold that scratch in my paint over your head for months." She arched a brow in challenge.

Mike smirked back at her, but didn't say anything.

After a moment her smile sweetened and then she leaned over, turning out the light.

"Night, Mike."

"Goodnight Aurora."

* * *

Aurora sighed in her head, she couldn't fall asleep. She was exhausted but she'd been tossing and turning all night.

She rolled over again, now facing toward Mike's bed and she opened her eyes, sensing light on the other side of her lids.

In the soft glow of the smallest lamp in their hotel room, Mike sat, holding up a piece of paper before his face, eyes scanning the page.

Aurora watched him through half-open eyes, hoping he didn't notice she was awake. His jaw was tense and face drawn, but the only emotion she could see on his face was sadness. A deep, aching sadness that she knew was related to Julianne. That piece of paper had something to do with Julianne.

Mike suddenly began to move, folding up the paper and then reaching over to the lamp. Aurora shut her eyes, hoping he hadn't caught her watching.

The click of the lamp sounded, and the light was gone, plunging the room in near-complete darkness. Aurora opened her eyes in the dark and watched as Mike tucked the paper underneath his pillow before settling himself on his back and closing his eyes, ready for sleep to overtake him.

Aurora's curiosity was killing her as she wondered what the piece of paper was.

/

When she woke the next morning Mike was still asleep, which was okay, seeing as they didn't have anywhere to be. Mike had a couple interviews later in the afternoon but Aurora decided he deserved a morning to sleep in.

Planning on waking him when she returned, Aurora changed and headed out onto the street for a morning jog. Then she sat down at a local cafe with a cup of tea and browsed through her emails on her phone, replying to one from her mother. It was the standard 'how are you doing?' 'How has work been?' conversation that they always had. Aurora in turn asked about her mother's fiance and inquired about how the wedding plans were coming along, if they had picked a location yet, and what would she need to wear to the event.

With a sigh she set down her phone and sipped her tea, her mind slipping back to the night before when she'd watched Mike read that piece of paper.

It had to have something to do with Julianne. Nothing else had ever elicited such a reaction from Mike, that Aurora had seen, except for the memory of Julianne.

But what was it?

It was a piece of simple printer paper, but not a photo. It looked like there had been writing on it or something. Her obituary? A speech from her funeral? There were too many possibilities.

Curiosity killed the cat and the not-knowing was certainly killing Aurora.

She stood from her seat, taking her tea with her as she left the cafe, and headed back to the hotel.

When she unlocked the door and stepped inside she found the room empty and was slightly surprised. She'd thought Mike would still be asleep. As she glanced at the clock, she realized it was nearing ten in the morning. She hadn't realized she'd been out that long.

Deciding to shower up and prepare herself for the day she rummaged through her suitcase for an outfit and then closed the bathroom door behind her, turning the nozzle of the shower until piping hot water flowed against the tile.

After going through the necessary process of washing her hair, drying off, doing her make up and then deciding on a hairstyle for the day, Aurora dressed and left the bathroom to still find it empty.

She shrugged, Mike had his own life, his own friends. He was probably out with one of them getting brunch or catching up with some family on the phone. She didn't own him and she knew she couldn't be with him every moment of every day; that would be too much.

When she put her dirty clothes back into her suitcase and then sat down on her bed, she found her eyes drawn to Mike's pillow. It is where he'd stored the piece of paper the night before and she wondered if it was still there.

Would it be wrong of her to look at it? Was that too invasive? If she was quick and put it back, he would never know she'd even looked at it.

She had to know what it was.

Quickly she stood and padded across the small space between her bed and Mike's. Gently, she slid her hand underneath the pillow and held her breath as she searched around for the paper. A light crinkling met her ears as her fingers grazed the edge of the paper. She grasped it between her fingers and retracted her hand, taking the paper with her.

She let out a breath and sat back down on her bed and then slowly unfolded the paper.

It was a letter. From Julianne. To Mike.

Rory's brown eyes widened as she read over the words on the page in front of her, handwritten words, the paper marred with puckered water marks in the size of small droplets. Tears, they were from tears. Someone had cried onto this piece of paper, whether Mike or Julianne, she didn't know.

Before she could even stop herself to question the morality of her actions, she was reading the deceased woman's word to the love of her life, devouring them with her brown eyes and feeling Julianne's love for Mike echo within her heart.

_"Mike, _

_ I honestly don't know where to begin. Well, I don't know if I've told you yet but...I love you._

_ It's hard to explain this letter. I don't know when you'll be receiving this, but by the time you do, I'll be dead so, firstly—I'm sorry._

_ I can't imagine how unfair this must seem to you. I don't really know what to write. If you're wondering where I was when I wrote this, well, I'm sitting in my bedroom, in my mother's house. I found out just yesterday that my sister's father was my father's best friend. Alyssa wouldn't listen to me when I tried to explain to things to her, and I hate to think that I could die before we get to work things out. That would be unfair._

_ But God, I see it now. Life isn't fair, not in the least. First, I grew up without knowing my father, then I lost my mother, I lost my sister emotionally for a first time, then I found out that I only had about a month to live. _

_ I don't want to rant to you Mike about how unfair it is that I'm going to die. I realized it today when I lost complete control in my hand and dumped a cup of coffee on the ground that even if I did last longer than one month, I wouldn't want to live that way. I was losing control of everything, I couldn't think straight, could barely hold things between my fingers, couldn't eat much..._

_ But there was one thing that kept me smiling while everything—all of me—seemed to be disintegrating around me...That's you Mike, you're amazing...You made this whole process so much easier without even realizing it._

_ I don't know if you're angry that I didn't tell you, or if you're glad..I guess I'll never know but if you are angry, let me have my say. I didn't tell you because I didn't want to ruin what we had. I found out I had a month left to live and I just wanted to enjoy it as much as I could. I didn't want to spend it with you worrying over me like I was made of porcelain. I had so much fun in the last...however long of my life, you have no idea. If I were to die tomorrow, I would die happy—no lie. _

_ Now, I'd like to thank you. Thank you for loving me—you don't even need to tell me, I know. I knew the moment you showed up at my hotel room, ready take care of me while I had the "flu." Now I know better, it was just a symptom but you were so gentle and tender. You amaze me Mike. When I first met you, I thought you were a straight player. But you surprised me time and time again. Whenever I was crying, you were somehow there and you proved that you were serious, you weren't just a good-looking asshole. You were a sensitive and thoughtful, nice guy. _

_ I don't know if I'll ever get the chance to tell you, but I find it ironic that my mother's true love was named Michael, and so was mine. Just like my mom and dad, they lost each other at a young age, and now I'm afraid you're going to lose me far too quickly. I wish there was a cure for cancer, or a way to keep me alive longer, I want to be with you. I want to grow old with you, get married, have a family—everything we talked about. But I don't think it's in the cards for us. _

_ But loving you has taught me so much and I hope you've learned something from the time we've shared too. I know I learned to take chances, I didn't let you just slip through my fingers, I took the risk and it paid off in the end. I feel that a lot of people just let things happen and don't chase after what they really want. _

_ Most of all, Mike, I hope you get a happily ever after with someone else. I don't want you to hold onto me and hole yourself away. I want you to move on and fall in love again. I know you'll be a wonderful spouse and father and even though it won't be me sharing those experiences with you, I want you to experience them all the same. _

_ I love you enough to know that you deserve love. So, get back out there Miz, show the world what you're made of. And make sure you win the WWE Championship...eventually. I'll always love you, and I hope one day we'll see each other again. _

_ Goodbye, my love, forever just wasn't meant for us. _

_ With everlasting love,_

_ Julianne"_

One of Aurora's hands lifted to cover her mouth as tears welled in her eyes.

"What are you reading?"

* * *

_And a cliffy, I know, I'm terrible._

_Thanks to DeathDaisy and Alexi (guest) for your reviews. Also, DeathDaisy made a banner for this fic, which I will be making the cover image for NLTL. I'll also put a link up on my profile. It's a really amazing banner! :)_


	11. Barbed Wire

**I'm sorry that it's been about a month since I last updated, the past few weeks have been crazy. Unfortunately, updating won't be getting any more frequent because I start college this week and the real world begins again. I will try to work on chapters when I can, because I do love this fic and I know, despite the lack of reviewers, that I do have readers out there. Sorry I've been such a crappy fanfic writer the past year, what with not being around much and updating infrequently but there's not much I can do about it. I hope whoever is still out there will stick with me :) because I love writing and I love fanfiction still, after all these years.**

**I would love to break 50 total reviews :) **

**Lyrics are from the song I Just Wanna Run by The Downtown Fiction**

**Enjoy**

**xoxoxo**

**Angel**

* * *

**-Nothing Left To Lose-**

**Chapter 11: Barbed Wire**

* * *

**Now:**

Mike Mizanin knew how to use words like they're weapons. Like barbed wire.

Words—harsh, terrible, cruel words—where his favorite method of isolation. He used them with precision with sober, and sloppily when drunk.

He always did harm with words it seemed, never saying the right thing, never saying a good thing.

When it came to Julianne, he had always been good with words. He had charmed her with words, comforted her with words, confessed his feelings with words.

With _her _his words were never charming, never comforting, never a confession of feelings. They were fighting words, barbs and poisonous jabs to get her to leave him alone.

Because, she was always saying charming things to him, comforting him with her honest phrases, confessing truths about his life and character that he didn't want to face.

He just wanted her to be wrong, but she wasn't.

And so he scratched her with barbed wire words in the best way he knew how because he hated being honest with himself.

Especially when it came to _her. _

* * *

_Like a game of chess_

_I predict your move_

_I think I know you better _

_Better than you do_

_._

_I'm feeling like I keep on talking_

_I'm repeating myself,_

_My words lost all meaning _

_I keep talking _

_I repeat myself_

_._

_I just wanna run, hide it away_

_Run because they're chasing me down _

_I just wanna run, throw it away_

_Run before they're finding me out _

_I just wanna run_

* * *

_Then: _

Mike knew it was going to be a bad day from the moment he had woken up. The heaviness in his chest was a dead giveaway and a precursor for the emotions he would have throughout the hours as they progressed on achingly slow. The demons of his past were clutching at his mind already and it was barely nine in the morning.

He looked over to see Aurora's bed already empty and when he glanced at the clock, he realized he'd overslept just a bit, usually he was up by this time to go get in an early morning work out. Aurora, however, was usually still asleep at this time or just waking up, but there was no sign of her. His mind, for a moment, wondered where Rory was, but figured she was probably out getting breakfast or meeting with Maryse or someone. It wasn't his job to keep tabs on her, they weren't dating, they were barely friends.

Mike sighed as he laid back down, lucky that he wasn't late for anything, draping an arm over his eyes. He did have an interview later that day but otherwise no plans. It was a day where he couldn't distract himself from the ugly memories and painful thoughts. There was no show to prepare for, not interview questions to answer, no forced conversations, just Mike, alone.

Aurora probably had some idea for them to do something that day but Mike felt the weariness and exhaustion tug at him. He mentally wasn't up to going out with Aurora, who always seemed to be ready for a social interaction. She could generate fun out of anything and the prospect of that just seemed tiring to Mike that day. Usually he enjoyed the small ways Aurora could distract him, taking silly pictures, making faces at him, sarcastic commentary about the waiter at the restaurant. She was spontaneously fun and usually it was to his advantage.

She did a fantastic job at distracting him, so well that he hadn't touched alcohol since she started traveling with him. Not a drop, but he hadn't gone out to a club with his usual intent and motive since Aurora squeezed her way into his life.

Maybe she hadn't _squeezed _into his life, he did make some room for her after he realized she was unmovable. She was stubborn, and once she made her mind up about something, it was nearly impossible to get her to change it.

Julianne had been a similar type of stubborn but Julianne had been wholly independent. Aurora thrived on people, on helping them, on interacting with them. She loved to talk, whereas Julianne was happy to stay silent. The differences were there and they were noticeable and they made Mike miss Julianne all the more.

He hadn't had a drink in forever.

There was a darkness in his mind as he stared at the ceiling, a heaviness in his chest that not even Aurora could distract him from. There was only one thing that could take him away from the pain that was beginning to scratch it's claws against his spine.

He needed a drink.

Without a further thought, or a plan of real action, he stood from the bed and began to put clothes on. He splashed water on his face and combed his hair before sitting on the edge of the bed to put on his shoes. As he placed his palm down on his pillow to brace himself as he shoved his toe into his shoe he heard the crinkle of paper.

Reaching under the pillow he pulled out the weathered piece of paper and smiled sadly at the faded lines as he unfolded it's frayed edges. Julianne's words scrawled messily across the page. He had nearly memorized her words, having spent countless sleepless nights rereading the lines over and over, always dwelling on the same paragraph.

"_Most of all, Mike, I hope you get a happily ever after with someone else. I don't want you to hold onto me and hole yourself away. I want you to move on and fall in love again. I know you'll be a wonderful spouse and father and even though it won't be me sharing those experiences with you, I want __you to experience them all the same."_

How could she expect him to fall in love again? It had been hard enough the first time, falling for Julianne, all the drama and heartbreak that surrounded his one memory of true love. She couldn't expect him to really go through all of that again, with the prospect of losing that person as well. He couldn't take losing another person like he'd lost Julianne.

And children? They were definitely not in his near future, maybe not at all. He was certain he'd be a terrible father. A mean, cruel, absent father who was afraid of losing everyone and everything. Always walking on eggshells, always a moment away from falling apart, so close to making it but afraid of failing again.

Pushing away the thoughts, Mike folded up the letter and placed it back under the pillow. A drink sounded perfect to him. He headed for the hotel bar.

The bartender nodded to Mike in greeting, waiting for an order, as the blue-eyed man approached.

"I'll take a _Stella_," Mike said as he settled onto his stool, the bartender nodded retrieving a glass for Mike's beer.

The bartender placed the beer in front of him and Mike nodded gratefully before taking a gulp of the alcohol. Swallowing he set the glass down, resting his elbows on the bar, tunneling his fingers into his hair.

Minutes blurred by into an hour, maybe more as he had three more beers. He wasn't drunk, he knew how he felt when he was drunk and he was nowhere near that feeling, but he was certainly tipsy.

But as more alcohol bled into his system, the pain numbed and suddenly he could think of Julianne easily, without flinching, without sadness. He could let himself imagine her smile, could see blue of her eyes. He could think of her, really remember her, and feel no pain. Thus was the upside to the alcohol.

God, he missed her. He felt her absence everyday as an emptiness inside him, as a dimming of the world he spent his life in.

Lately, only one person had been able to shine a little more light onto the picture than usual.

Quickly, he dismissed the thoughts of the redhead. No, he wouldn't think about Aurora while he was drunk, this was when he was able to think about Julianne freely, clearly.

Eventually, he realized time had passed and retrieved his cell phone from his pocket to check the exact time.

"Shit," he muttered to himself.

It was after ten o'clock, Aurora would be back soon, he assumed. He needed to sober up before he ran into her.

Paying his bill he left the bar, heading to the elevator, hoping in his blurry mind that Aurora had not yet returned to their room. He couldn't face her drunk. She'd be furious if she knew he had been drinking.

Mike slid the key card into the slot with a little trouble, his hand was unsteady. Pushing the door open he stepped into the quiet room, for a moment not even realizing Aurora was present due to the lack of noise.

As he went to slip off his shoes, he scanned the room. His eyes caught onto Aurora's figure.

Her back was to him as she sat on the edge of her bed. He assumed she hadn't heard him enter, probably too absorbed in whatever she was doing and he shrugged it off. The more time he had to prepare the better. Mike knew the alcohol was acting on him and that she would jump down his throat for going out at ten in the morning for a drink.

Mike's eyebrows furrowed as he noticed a small movement from her. Aurora's shoulders shook ever so slightly, and he heard a soft gasp leave her lips. A sniffle followed as she lifted her hand to her face.

She was crying.

Immediately the empathetic side of him reacted, wanting to comfort her. He stepped around the edge of her bed, moving to be closer to him, planning to sit down next to her. Mike glanced over her shoulder to see what had caused her to cry.

He stopped short as he caught a glimpse of a familiar piece of worn paper clutched in Aurora's hand. His heart sank and dread filled his veins and he suddenly felt very exposed.

"What are you reading?"

He asked the question, but he already knew the answer. He recognized the letter, his letter, from Julianne. The color drained from his face.

Aurora jumped, suddenly on her feet, her eyes wide as she turned to face him. Her eyes were red-rimmed, but there were no real tears on her cheeks.

"Oh my god, Mike," she said, her voice breaking into the silence that had spread between them after he voiced his question. She had the decency to look guilty, Mike noticed, but not even her remorseful expression could stop the anger he felt rising inside of him.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He asked, his tone harsh.

"Mike, I-I'm sorry, I just..." She trailed off because she had no good reason for as to why she had taken the letter and read it. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? Do you not understand the meaning of personal space or privacy? It's not like I left the letter lying around, it was under by goddamn pillow. How did you even know it was there? Why the fuck would you even read it, what made you think that was okay?"

"I-" he cut her off, not allowing her to give any excuses.

"It's not okay to just take someone's personal fucking letter and read it. Haven't I opened up to you enough, why did you feel the need to have to go behind my back and read something private?"

Her face fell and her hand tightened around the letter, which she was still holding.

"Mike, I just...Curiosity killed the cat, okay? I'm sorry. I was hoping...maybe I'd understand you better if I read it."

"That's a shitty excuse Aurora," he shook his head before he stepped forward and pulled the letter from her hand roughly, tearing the worn crease in the middle of the page. He gritted his teeth as he turned away from her, refolding the letter and sliding it into his jean pocket.

"Look, I get it, Aurora. I'm your charity case, you like trying to fix people that are fucked up, I mean, why else would you be here? I'm probably then most fucked up person you've ever met. I don't believe your bullshit story of wanting to understand and wanting me to have someone to talk to and to stop me from making mistakes. Mistakes are normal, Aurora, no ones perfect. We fail all the fucking time, so I don't appreciate you being around trying to change me because you think something is wrong with me. I'm just grieving, and I'm sorry if I'm not grieving in a way you think is acceptable. You're not living my life, you're not in my head, so you have no fucking idea what it's like."

"Mike, I'm sorry, I know reading the letter was an invasion of personal space, but I'm just trying to help you."

"How is reading that letter trying to help me? That letter was written for me, those were her last words to me, not to you. You didn't ask, you just went ahead and read it..." he ran his hands through his hair, down his face and turned away from her again.

She moved toward him and he felt her hand on his shoulder. Her eyes widened, the scent of beer reached her nose and her chest tightened.

Shrugging her hand off he stepped away. He let a silence drag between them for a long moment before he turned back around to look at the redhead, "have you ever been in love Aurora? Real, true, heart-stopping, life-changing love?"

She froze and stared at him as she tried to comprehend the sudden change in the conversation. The confusion and mental whiplash showed on her face, but she answered, "I...yes."

He chuckled, "then you should understand how wrong it was of you to read that letter. That was, private, Julianne spills her guts in that letter. To me, she wrote those things for me, not for you—not for some girl who doesn't approve of me. Julianne loved me unconditionally, she didn't want to change me."

"I don't think this is who you were when you were with Julianne."

"You don't know that. You weren't around then. I didn't even know you existed back then!"

"Trying to scare me away isn't going to work Mike. Julianne loved you so much, she had so much hope for you. The way you're going right now, you'll never do what she wished for you, you'll never move on."

"I'm not trying to scare you away, Aurora. And, and maybe I don't want what Julianne hoped for. I don't want to move on from her, I don't want to let go of the one amazing thing I've had in my life. She was better than my career, than any of the past relationships I've had, she will always be better than any other woman I ever meet. She was _it_ for me and I don't want to move on and marry some other woman, because I'm not capable of loving another person the same way I loved Julianne.

"I'm trying to tell you that your quest is pointless, Aurora and you should just leave now before I disappoint you even more. I didn't ask you to be here, and now, I don't want you here. I want you to just fucking leave me alone."

She stared at him, the shock evident on her face. She wet her lips and sucked in a sharp breath, lowering her eyes to the floor.

"Fine then," she whispered and he heard the way her voice cracked, emotion constricting her throat, "I'll leave."

"Finally."

He didn't need to say that, didn't need to hiss it out so hatefully, so spitefully. He saw the hurt cross her face, the way her back screwed up tensely as she stepped around him and began to collect her things.

He watched her silently as she threw her belongings into her suitcase and then put her shoes back on. Grabbing her purse she glanced over at him, their eyes meeting.

"You haven't been disappointing me Mike. And I am sorry for reading the letter without asking. But I don't agree with you when you say you'll never be able to love again, there is always room to love in our hearts no matter what happens."

"I don't want to hear your fucking shrink shit, Aurora. I'm tired of it. Just leave."

She swallowed, holding his eyes for a moment longer before nodding once and leaving, the letting the door shut loudly behind her, leaving him in silence with a full minibar.

/

The progression of his afternoon and following night was not surprising to Mike as he paced around his room with a glass of booze in his hand. He was a mess, dressed in only his boxers, hair mussed and face tired.

His phone had rung several times that afternoon, but he had ignored each and every call, not even picking up the device.

Instead he talked to Julianne. Well, he spoke into the air, he didn't know if he believed much in any type of afterlife where she could hear him or see him. He didn't feel her presence around him like they said you could in books and movies.

"Why the fuck would you want me to fall in love again? Why would you wish that for me? Why would you be okay with giving me to someone else?"

He shook his head sardonically, "and who the fuck could compare to you, huh?"

He shrugged, his wrist tilting his glass, causing the liquid inside the slosh around, "no one, that's who."

His glass was nearly empty after his next sip, so he abandoned the cup on the night stand, instead opting to drink straight from the bottle.

He slouched down onto the corner of the bed, "why did you leave me here Jules? Why couldn't I have taken your place, you'd be doing so much better than I am."

* * *

_She was waiting for him when he got home._

_ As he set his bag down, the house was silent and he knew immediately where she was. _

_ Climbing the stairs as he unbuttoned his shirt, he smiled to himself, he'd been dying to see her. He'd wanted to come home days ago but a last minute appearance had stopped him from doing so._

_ He pressed his palm flat against the bedroom door, seeing it cracked open slightly, and pushed. _

_ "You're finally home." _

_ She smiled at him with her peach colored lips as she stood, toying with the tie of her silk robe. _

_ Mike smiled as she approached him, a look in her coffee brown eyes that he recognized. _

_ She wanted him. _

_ His hands slid onto her waist, his fingers moving along the silky material, a deep red color that looked perfect on her skin. _

_ Their first kiss of the weekend was not shy or hesitant, they were far past those feelings now. _

_ His finger deftly untied her robe and peeled the fabric back, and he chuckled lowly in his throat as he glanced down at her, breaking their kiss momentarily. _

_ "Mmm," he hummed as he reached out, brushing his fingers against the lacy set she'd donned for him,_ _"I like it."_

_ "I was hoping you would," she replied, fingers on his jaw, pulling his lips back into their kiss. His eyes closed, shutting out the image of the burgundy lace, he would see more of it, or less, later. _

_ He leaned in to her ear, "I think I'd like it better...off." _

_ She chuckled softly as he kissed below her ear and reached back for the clasp of the bra. The lace fell away and he devoured the newly revealed skin._

_ "Sit down," she smirked, pushing his chest lightly so he fell back on the bed. His shirt was on the floor in a second and her nails clawed down his tanned chest. He groaned lightly at the sensation, grinning at her as she lifted her brown eyes to look at him as she pressed him down flat onto the mattress. _

_ Deftly she undid his belt, pulling it through the lips and then her fingers removed the button from it's slot and tugged down the zipper. Her heated fingertips drove him wild and her warm tongue pressed against his abdomen. _

_ Pulling down fabric she grinned, their eyes locking just as her mouth slid lower and lower, leaving a heated trail that left his heart stuttering in excited anticipation. _

_ "Aurora..." _

Mike sat up, his body feeling overheated. He blinked into the darkness for several suspended moments before he rubbed a hand down his face, sighing heavily, his shoulders sagging.

Suddenly the fog began to creep into his mind, a hangover was settling over his shoulders quickly and he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, groaning against the pain that throbbed once, twice, three times into the back of his skull.

The room was oddly silent, Aurora usually snored quietly while she slept, Mike had always noticed that when he woke up in the middle of the night from one of his nightmares. But there was no snoring to be heard.

Removing his hands from his eyes he glanced over to where Aurora should be asleep only to find the bed empty.

The memories of the day before entered into his cloudy mind as he remembered what had transpired. He squeezed his eyes shut again, cursing under his breath at his stupidity.

He'd been so drunk. More inebriated than he thought.

He gently began to pull the sheets off of him. As he moved to swing his legs off the bed, an empty bottle that was filled the night before fell with a thump to the floor. For a silent moment Mike froze and stared at the fallen bottle.

Shaking his head he placed his feet on the floor, on either side of the bottle and then stood up. He stumbled slightly as he blundered through the dim room toward the bathroom, cursing under his breath as he went until finally he pushed the door open and was able to lean against the bathroom counter.

Reaching out, he flicked on the light switch and blinked in the sudden light, staring at his reflection.

Fuck, he even _looked_ hungover.

Running his fingers through his hair he lowered his blue eyes from his reflection, disgusted with what he saw.

There was a ringing in the main room and it was then that Mike realized it wasn't actually the middle of the night. When he glanced out to the bedroom, he could see a bright strip of sunlight bleeding through a crack in the curtains and drawing a line on the patterned carpet of the room.

Straightening his spine he sucked in a breath and exited the bathroom, trying to pull himself together. He walked over to the nightstand, his toe kicking the empty bottle and he cursed lowly again. He picked up his cell phone, another curse escaping when Vince McMahon's name flashed across the screen.

"Fuck my life." He muttered before accepting the call and lifting the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

"Mike?"

"Yes sir?"

"Where the hell were you yesterday? You blew off your interview."

"I," Mike paused, "there's no excuse sir. It won't happen again."

"You're fucking right it won't. If it does you'll be out of a job. I don't know what is going on with you lately Mike, but whatever it is, it's starting to effect your job and that is unacceptable. You need to get a handle on this situation Mike. If you need a professional to talk to, I can arrange that for you or you can choose to handle this on your own. Whatever you do, it needs to be quick, before you make a mistake that I can't forgive you for."

"I understand sir."

"I'm not sure you do Michael, but I hope you come to understand the magnitude of your actions before its too late." There was a pause before Vince added, "and I rescheduled your interview for this afternoon at three, _do not _miss it."

"Yes sir."

"Have a good day."

"You too sir, thank you."

With that the phone call ended and Mike sat down on the edge of his bed, a relieved sigh escaping him.

That was a close call.

He needed coffee, badly.

/

Locating a local _Starbucks_ or cafe was a skill that Mike had acquired as a result from being on the road as often as he was. Hotel coffee makers were sub-par, even when you're hung over.

He got into line, checking his phone to see if Aurora had tried to call him the previous night. The only messages he had, however, were from an enraged Vince McMahon and other WWE personnel who had been trying to locate him for his missed interview.

Mike glanced up to see how many people were ahead of him in line when a familiar head of red hair caught his eye. He sucked in a breath as the woman nodded and then turned away from the counter, her change in hand.

She lifted her coffee brown eyes and they caught each others gaze for a moment.

Mike wasn't sure what he expected to happen, but he didn't expect her to just walk past him without a word. She tore her eyes from his and continued walking. She waited for her drink to be made without casting a second glance in his direction, like he wasn't even there.

By the time he had put in his order and paid, Aurora had already received her drink and disappeared, leaving Mike to gape at the spot where she had been stoically standing.

God, he'd fucked things up

He only remembered bits and pieces of what he'd said to her, and the bits he remembered where quite horrible.

He sighed as he picked up his coffee and then headed to the radio station where he was doing his interview. He forced himself to be attentive, taking a few _Tylenol _to dissipate his headache which was the result of more than just a hangover. He answered questions as best he could, but still felt distracted as his mind strayed to Aurora and what he had said to her.

She hated him now, he assumed. He'd ruined whatever type of friendship they had built over the past few weeks.

And he wasn't sure if he could mend this fence.

* * *

_Thank you to ThatGirlWithTheiPod, BallerinaGal321, and DeathDaisy for reviewing the last chapter. _

_xoxo._


	12. Mending Fences

**This chapter is quite long, I started writing and then it just flowed out and I couldn't stop it. I have really good news in that I've planned out the fic, chapter by chapter, almost up until the end. I still have a little gap that I need to fill before I can get to the ending I have planned. **

**If anyone is curious. The current time in the fic is mid July 2011. Also, if anyone happens to glance back at past chapters you'll notice I've added lyrics to each one. I let go of music as an inspiration while I write and recently I've found the connection again. So, I'll be posting lyrics with each chapter from songs that I think work for Mike and Aurora or for events in the fic. **

**We reached 50 reviews! Wow! Thank you sooo much ;) **

**Lyrics are from the song It's Been Awhile by Staind**

**Enjoy**

**xoxoxo**

**Angel**

* * *

**-Nothing Left To Lose-**

**Chapter 12: Mending Fences**

* * *

**Now: **

Mike Mizanin was sobering up.

His last bottle of alcohol was gone. He'd raided the mini bar two days ago, and finished the bottle of Jack after the first day. Now, he'd been hours without alcohol. Sober enough to order room service, thankful that when he opened the door there was no one on the other side.

He needed more alcohol.

He hadn't been this sober in days and it was more annoying than anything because when he was sober he thought about _her _and how she liked him better when he was sober.

He remembered a time when he wanted to be sober, for her.

Fuck, that felt like a long time ago now.

* * *

_It's been awhile_

_since I could_

_look at myself straight _

_and it's been awhile_

_since I said, "I'm sorry" _

_and it's been awhile _

_since I've seen the way_

_the candles light your face_

_and it's been awhile _

_but I can still remember _

_just the way you taste_

_._

_and everything I can remember_

_as fucked as it all may seem_

_the consequence that are rendered_

_I stretch myself beyond my means_

* * *

_Then:_

_"You haven't been disappointing me Mike. And I am sorry for reading the letter without asking. But I don't agree with you when you say you'll never be able to love again, there is always room to love in our hearts no matter what happens."_

_ "I don't want to hear your fucking shrink shit, Aurora. I'm tired of it. Just leave."_

_ She swallowed, holding his eyes for a moment longer before nodding once and leaving, the letting the door shut loudly behind her, leaving him in silence with a full minibar. _

Aurora was still startled by the confrontation she'd had with Mike as she walked slowly down the hallway, her suitcase trailing on its wheels behind her. Her mind was reeling from the words he had spoken, angrily. He had never been that angry at her before. Sure, annoyed, frustrated, exacerbated—but never _angry_. He'd never yelled at her before, either.

She sighed to herself as she stopped in front of the elevators, the hallway having ended.

Sliding her phone out of her pocket she dialed Matt's number.

She couldn't go to Maryse right now, she would ask too many questions, she would infer things that weren't true. She'd suspect that Aurora was so hurt about the confrontation with Mike because she had feelings for Mike.

And she didn't, she couldn't, have feelings for Mike.

Aurora was trying to help him, as a friend, nothing more.

Plus, he'd made it very apparent that he didn't want to fall in love with anyone ever again.

So, having feelings for Mike Mizanin would be a lost cause. It's out of the question.

He was attractive though.

Aurora dismissed the thought quickly as Matt answered his phone.

"Ror? Hey, what's up?"

She couldn't help the relieved smile the furled her lips at the sound of her best friend's voice. Matt never failed to make her feel better about her situation, no matter how bad it all seemed.

"Hey, are-are you busy?"

"No, why?"

"I kind of got kicked out of Mike's hotel room, and I need someone to talk to." She supplied just enough information without delving into the whole tale over the phone.

"Shit, well, I'm heading back to my room right now. I can meet you there, I'm in room 205."

"Okay, thanks Matt."

"No problem, Rory."

She leaned against the wall outside his hotel room for only a few minutes before she spotted him walking down the hallway toward her. He wasn't wearing his usual smile, instead a mask of concern clouded his features as he neared, his eyes checking over her. When his eyes met hers, he saw it, she was upset.

It took a lot to _upset _Rory in the rue meaning of the word. You could anger her, rile her up, get her defense, but making her emotionally upset or distressed, making her almost cry was a feat. Matt had only ever seen her cry once and that was a couple years ago.

So, the fact that her face was drawn and her eyes were reddened had him immediately worried as well as simultaneously reading to knock some sense into one Michael Mizanin.

"Hey," she said, placing a hand on his arm, stopping his thoughts with just a touch, "it's okay. I'm okay. It was all my fault, he didn't do anything wrong, really."

"I find that really hard to believe when you're here, looking like this," Matt said, locking eyes with her, giving her an unconvinced look before shaking his head and stepping around her to unlock the door to his room.

"PJ is out for the day, so we have the room to ourselves for a few hours if you want to talk," he said as she followed him into the room, closing the door behind her, setting her suitcase near the door.

"Would you guys mind me staying here, just for the night. I'll room with Gwen tomorrow after we drive to the next city."

Matt turned to look at her and nodded, his eyebrows pulling up together, "of course, Rory."

She smiled gratefully as she sat down on one of the bed and looked up at him.

He sat down across from her on the second bed, laying his palms flat on the mattress on either side of his legs. He leveled her with a stare, "so...?"

She bit down on the inside of her bottom lip as her hands tangled themselves together as a distraction, "can we... talk about it tomorrow?" She asked.

Matt looked hesitant, for a moment she thought he would say no, but then his face changed and he just nodded resolutely. "Yeah, that's fine."

She smiled gratefully, "thanks."

The rest of the afternoon was spent distracting her from the guilt roiling in her stomach and at moments she completely forgot about how she and Mike had fought.

But then the worry would surface, nipping at her heels and her mind wandered off, fearing what Mike was doing when left to his own devices.

She would sigh and turn back to whatever she and Matt were doing, trying to push Mike out of her mind. It was her own fault he was left in such a way. She had made the mistake.

PJ returned to the room and the three spent the night watching TV, Rory joining Matt in his bed, a normal occurrence for the two best friends. She fell asleep next to Matt and woke early the next morning, fidgeting, knowing Matt wasn't the kind to forget her promising to talk about whatever had happened today.

PJ was up early and out the door for a work out, leaving her alone with a sleeping Matt, who lifted his head after the door closed.

"You want to talk now?"

"How long have you been awake?" She asked.

"Long enough to know you're dreading this conversation, so let's have it." He sat up, pushing his back against the headboard. "What did you do?"

Aurora let out a slow breath, "I read the letter Julianne left for him before she died."

Matt blinked, mouth gaping slightly as he searched for a verbal response to match his shocked expression, "that...that's personal."

"I know," she sighed, her shoulders sagging under the weight of her guilt, because she did feel guilty. "I know, it was wrong of me. I told you I was at fault."

"I just, wow, damn. Ror, that..." He just shook his head because he had no words to describe how invasive that act was.

Aurora covered her face with her hands and sighed into them, "I'm an inconsiderate idiot. I know. Mike pretty much told me that."

"Well," Matt shrugged, he had to agree with Mike there. He wasn't the type to take Aurora's side when she was in the wrong just because she's his best friend. He had promised her he'd always be honest with her. And he'd succeeded at being that with her, mostly.

"And he's right," she said, dropping her hands into her lip as she pulled her legs up onto the bed, folding them in front of her.

"At least you can admit that. Did you apologize?" he asked, raising a brow.

"Of course I did!" She said, looking incredulous that he would think she'd lack remorse for her actions, "I apologized multiple times. He was still angry and I can't say I blame him. I didn't plan on getting caught."

Matt's eyes widened, "he caught you reading the letter?"

"He walked in as I finishing reading it."

Matt shook his head, "you kind of fucked up."

She rolled her eyes, rubbing a hand over her forehead, "trust me, I know."

"You know, I'm not really sure I understand this relationship you have going on with Mike. But the basis of any relationship is trust, and you just proved a little untrustworthy."

She winced, "that's a little harsh."

"You didn't trust him to tell you about the letter. You just took it and read it. You proved he can't trust you to not go through his things."

"Okay, so maybe I'm a little untrustworthy, because I'm curious."

"Because you're nosy. Which is ironic because you hate when people dig into your life. I mean, does he know about Ben?"

She froze, blinking slowly before her face—usually so open and friendly—closed off, "I fail to see how Ben is relevant."

"You talk to Mike about Julianne. Sharing personal information like that shouldn't be one-sided Aurora. It's a give and take kind of thing. You can't just expect him to spill his guts while you stay tight-lipped and be okay with that. Bearing your soul to someone is hard shit."

She pursed her lips into a thin line and looked away from him, tucking her tongue behind her teeth as she worked over his words in her head.

"I just don't like talking about Ben."

"And you think he likes talking about how Julianne died."

"But he needs to. He needs to grieve."

"And so do you."

"Ben's not dead."

"To you he is."

Her brown eyes found his and she stared for a long moment, because Matt had never been this blunt with her about her past relationship.

Matt sighed as he stood up from the bed, wiping his hand son his jeans nervously, feeling as if he'd gone too far, but deep down he knew it was good for Aurora to hear what he had said.

"You like Mike, I can see that. I don't know the extent of that like but if you want him to return it, in any way, you have to be open to him too or you'll never make any real progress." As he started to make his way to the door he paused, glancing over his shoulder at her, "I'll give you some time alone to think about things."

She stood, "no, that's not fair." She closed her eyes for a brief moment before stepping past him, "I'm not going to run you out of your room. I'll go." She picked up her purse by the door and then slipped out of the room, an invisible weight heavy on her shoulders, her stomach sinking because she knew Matt was right.

Pulling up a map of the local area on her phone, she located the nearest Starbucks and headed there, deciding she needed some tea to make her feel better.

/

It took everything she had in her not to go to him. She fought off all of her instincts telling her to turn around and meet him halfway, feeling his incessant, apologetic stare on her.

Her mind refused to let her give in so easily when he'd gotten so angry at her the previous day.

Sure, what she'd done had been wrong. It was wrong of her to go through his personal things, to read a very personal letter that was addressed to him and not to her.

She didn't regret reading the letter.

She'd never seen love like that before. Never read words like that, not even in a sappy romance novel. They were all heartfelt, true, startling, sobering words from a dying woman to the love of her life.

Aurora finally understood why Mike was so messed up.

Hell, Aurora would resort to drinking too if she had lost that kind of love.

What had Mike called it? _"Real, true, heart-stopping, life-changing love."_

He'd asked her if she'd ever felt that, and she'd said she had but, honestly, she wasn't sure about her answer anymore.

Ben had been...something. Life-changing, sure. Heart-stopping; yes, there were many times when he did something that made her heart stutter, sometimes not in good ways. But real and true? If it was real and true, wouldn't they still be together?

And they weren't, thank God they weren't.

So, maybe she had lied to Mike when she answered, and maybe he'd noticed the lie, or maybe he hadn't. Maybe now he'd assume they had some kind of mutual understanding.

From the looks of it, he wanted to talk.

She didn't allow herself to stick around long enough to see if he would approach her. Greedily wrapping her hands around the warmth of her tea, she left the Starbucks and quickly retreated to the hotel, hoping she'd successfully be able to avoid Mike for at least another week. He was probably still a bit angry, and she was still a bit hurt but mostly guilty, and space would do them nothing but good.

/

Aurora set up her station at work in her normal fashion, nodding and "uh-huh-ing" in response to whatever Gwen was prattling on about. She hadn't been listening since the blond had started and normally, she'd feel bad and try to jump back into the conversation and give it a real effort but she just felt drained and couldn't bring herself to interact properly with her chatty co-worker.

"Are you okay?" Gwen asked suddenly causing Aurora to spin around and snap to attention.

Her eyebrows pulled together, "yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

Gwen gave her a look that said she didn't believe her at all, "you cut half of your hair off. You only ever change your hair when something big happens to you."

Rory's hand unconsciously lifted to her hair, which was now just past her chin instead of halfway down her back. She fingered the red strands, she'd decided not to change the color, she liked the red, but she'd cut the hair into an asymmetrical bob that looked cute with her hair's natural wave.

"Nothing happened to me," she denied and Gwen just rolled her eyes.

"Whatever, I'm just trying to be a good friend by asking."

Aurora felt bad after that comment and she sighed, "I appreciate you worrying Gwen, but really, I'm fine. I just needed a change."

"Uh-huh," Gwen replied, just like Aurora had been doing earlier and the redhead smirked at the realization before turning to her schedule, noting that Maryse would be there soon for hair and make up.

Not even five minutes later, Aurora could hear her French best friend making her way toward the hair and make up room. She smiled, hearing the blond's thick accent down the hall. She could be so loud sometimes.

Quickly, Aurora pulled out the foundation that matched Maryse's skin tone and perused her brushes for the ones she planned on using.

Soon, Maryse's voice was just outside the doorway and Aurora turned in time to see the blond walk into the room, with Mike at her side.

Aurora froze as her eyes met Mike.

He'd been in the middle of speaking, something along the lines of "I told you I don't want to..." but when his eyes met Aurora's he trailed off. Maryse's brows furrowed before she followed Mike's gaze to Rory and then she looked back at the man, still confused.

"I, uh, I have to go," Mike said quickly, his eyes breaking the hold he'd had on Aurora as he glanced away, down at Maryse.

"Uh, o-okay," Maryse muttered, sounding put off.

After an awkward goodbye, Mike was gone and Maryse turned to her redhead friend.

"I'd like to think that reaction was from your new haircut, but I don't think that's what it was," Maryse said, lifting her arm to point over her shoulder where Mike had disappeared as she gave Aurora a penetrating stare that was expectant.

Aurora shrugged, desperately trying to play it off, "I have no idea what that was about. I haven't talked to him in almost two weeks."

"Oh, so that's what happened," Gwen said, her voice sounding enlightened, like she'd found the final piece of the puzzle.

Aurora ignored her colleague and instead looked at Maryse, "it's nothing though. I don't know what's up with him."

"Mm hmm, sure," Maryse hummed, obviously in her lack of belief in Aurora's words.

"Can I just do your make up, please?"

Maryse didn't give an affirmative or negative word, just sat down in the make up chair and closed her eyes, allowing Aurora to delve into her work and distract herself from over-thinking Mike's strange reaction to seeing her.

"I'm gonna head to catering to get some food. I'll be back in like twenty, you hold down the fort," Gwen said as she picked up her clutch and left the make up room.

Aurora rolled her eyes as she continued to finish up Maryse's hair. Gwen's words hadn't even been posed as a question, it's been an order, a demand. The redhead brushed the words off as she patted Maryse's shoulder. "You're done."

Just as she spoke those words, there was a knock on the door.

Aurora's brow puckered, the door had been open. No one needed to knock.

She turned as Maryse stood from the chair to find John Cena leaning against the door frame, his knuckles still resting on the hood.

Aurora blinked, the last person she had expected to see there was John Cena.

He gave her a dimpled grin and greeted Maryse as the blond left the make up room without another word toward Rory.

"Hey," Aurora dragged the word out as she turned away from him, trying to dismiss her blush. How could a smile from one guy turn her into complete mush? "What brings you here?" She asked as she began to put away the products she'd used on Maryse, unplugging her flat iron in the process. "No black eyes I hope," she said as she glanced over her shoulder to study his face for a moment. It was free of bruises.

So Mike hadn't been picking fights. Good.

John grinned again and shook his head, "no, no injuries for you to cover up. I just wanted to come see how you're doing."

Her eyebrows lifted, pleasantly surprised by his inquiry, "oh, uh, I'm fine." She was sure she sounded very coherent and intelligent based on that eloquent response.

John tilted his head to the left as he studied her, eyes crinkling as he noticed something looked different about her. Realization bloomed in his blue eyes as he said, "I like your hair."

She smiled slowly, her peach-colored lips curling, "you're the first person to like the change."

"Really?" He asked, looking honestly surprised by the comment.

"Mm hmm, no one else seems to like it."

"I think it looks great. Shows off your long neck." Then he shrugged, "but who gives a fuck what other people say. Do you like it?"

She paused for a moment, turning to look at her own reflection, seeing John's reflection behind her in the glass as well. She grinned and nodded, "I do."

"Then that's all that matters," he said with a shrug of his broad shoulders.

"Yeah, you have a point there." She said, turning and meeting his gaze with a smile, but there was that sinking feeling still in her stomach. Mike's blue eyes haunted her behind John's but she tried to stifle down the worry and guilt and enjoy what she'd been dreaming of for years; attention from John Cena.

/

After another two weeks, the guilt wasn't as bad for Aurora. She'd made piece with her own mistake and she had apologized for it.

But she still hadn't spoken to Mike since that day when he'd caught her with the letter.

Nothing could stop the worry, however.

She feared he resorted to drinking again, but she couldn't go up and ask him. It would be rude and invasive and she was trying really hard not to be either of those things.

The thoughts of Mike flooded her as John left hair and make up. He'd been visiting a lot without needing any of her expertise with make up. If Aurora didn't know any better she'd say he just came to flirt with her, but he was John Cena, and she's just a make up artist. The chasm between their social statuses was huge and sure, the WWE wasn't an exact adult version of a high school, but it had its similarities.

So far no one had spread any rumors about John's visits to the make up room, but Matt had made his fair share of displeased, sarcastic comments about the matter.

Aurora and Matt had gotten over the hiccup in their relationship quickly, because he was her best friend and she needed because she told him things she couldn't tell Maryse. Maryse still had no real idea what had gone on between her and Mike. Aurora wanted to keep it that way. Chances were if she told Maryse, the blond would go back and tell Mike something about what Aurora had said and that would be embarrassing.

"Aurora."

Her name in the air of the room pulled her from her thoughts as she turned toward the door to find her father standing there.

Pressing her tongue to the back of her teeth she clenched her jaw, "dad," she said the word cautiously.

"Hi sweetheart," he said with an open smile.

God, she hated the sweet falsities.

She forced a smile onto her lips, "hi." She knew she had to be pleasant.

Jerry Lawler looked so out of place standing in that room with his fully grown daughter who he barely knew. Once he had to ask her what her middle name was, because he'd forgotten it. Hell, he'd probably never seen her birth certificate before.

"What's up with you?" She asked, wanting to get him in and out of there as quickly as possible. Whatever conversation he wanted to have, she wanted it over with speedily.

He opened his mouth to pussyfoot around whatever topic he wanted to bring up and she fixed him with a look that told him to just get to it, no need for niceties and pleasantries. She wasn't a kid he could bribe and impress with presents and a cupcake any more.

"I've noticed that you and John Cena have been spending a lot of time together lately."

Her brows furrowed as her head tilted, eyes narrowing. He was not going to give her dating advice, was he?

Or worse, was he going to try to tell her who she could and couldn't date?

She waited to voice her outrage, deciding to let him finish.

"John is a...a really good guy. Very influential and important, integral to the company. And honestly, a really great catch."

Okay. Not where she thought this was going, but this direction was equally as dreadful.

"Hold up," she said, raising hand, palm out in a 'stop' gesture. "Yes, John is a nice guy and all that, but are you really here to try and tell me that if I date John it'll better my image. Are you saying this for my ego, or yours? You have no say in my life, whatsoever. Your opinion holds no sway over mine, your words have no significance to me and they never will. So, you can just stop now, don't waste your breath trying to tell who I should date to get ahead in the company. I'm happy with where I am in my life, sorry it's not up to expectations."

Jerry opened his mouth, probably to backtrack and cover his ass, but suddenly a third person was clearing their throat.

Aurora was shocked to see Mike standing in the doorway, but his presence stopped Jerry from speaking and she couldn't stop the relief from showing on her face.

"Could I talk to Rory?" He asked, pointing at her while directing the question at Jerry.

Her father when to deny his request but Aurora replied before the older man could interject.

"Of course, let's talk somewhere else," she said, grabbing her bag and walking past her father and out into the hall. Mike after hesitating a moment in the doorway, fell into step beside her.

Aurora let out a huff as they walked in silence, but she felt the tension ebb away now that she was no longer in the same room as her father.

"I won't ask what that was about, but, are you okay?" Mike asked, she could feel him staring down at her, waiting for a response.

"Yeah, yeah," her tone was clipped and suddenly she stopped walking.

Mike continued on a few steps before noticing she had stopped in place and he turned back around to face her.

She was frowning at him.

"I'm sorry, you know."

Mike met her gaze. Yes, this was what he had wanted to talk to her about, but he hadn't expected her to broach the subject first.

"I know," he nodded once.

She seemed to fully relax at his words and she smiled sadly, "it was wrong of me. Bad form, I know. I deserved the yelling and being kicked out. And I know I broke your trust and invaded your personal life and all kinds of other shit that is unacceptable and I'm so, _so _sorry for doing that. Will you please forgive me?"

There was a pause.

"Will you forgive _me_?" He asked quietly, so quiet she almost didn't hear him.

But she had and her lips parted, mouth going dry, "for what?"

He chuckled mirthlessly, "I was drunk when we fought Rory, you had to have noticed that."

She had, she could smell the alcohol on him that day, but she didn't want to blame his anger on being under the influence, that was unfair to his emotions. She shrugged.

"Sure, it was an invasion of privacy and I still don't know if I'm okay with the fact that you read that letter but, I was only that angry because I was drunk. I flew off the handle, went too far. I pointed out what you did wrong and then I took it to the next level. I didn't need to humiliate you or seem condescending or belittle you. But I did, I know the effect of my words and I'm sorry for that."

She was stunned by his apology, she hadn't expect this.

She swallowed, her tongue swiping out to wet her dry lips before she took a deep breath, "of course I forgive you."

"Then I accept your apology." He replied and then a flash of a smile was on his mouth and she returned it just as shortly. "But, I'd like to make it up to you."

"I already forgave you, you don't have to make it up to me," she pointed out.

"Then, I'd like to try to repair out friendship."

She smirked, a corner of her mouth lifting, "so we are friends?"

He nodded, "yeah."

"Okay, then how are you going to make it up to me?"

He smirked back at her, "I believe you said I owed you dinner."

"I did say something like that."

"I'll start there, then."

/

"Why isn't there anyone in the restaurant? Why did you have a key?" She asked, turning to face Mike as he stopped behind her to lock the front door. He was smiling as he slid the key and turned the lock but he didn't look up at her face. It was a smug smile, she knew without even being able to see it fully.

"Follow me," he said as he walked past her, his hand brushing hers as he passed and she felt her heart stutter for a moment. Quickly she convinced her heart to return to normal and then she did as told, following him through the main dining room, through a set of swinging double doors into the restaurant's kitchen.

Mike opened one of the large industrial refrigerators and started up a stove. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion and his blue eyes glanced up in time to catch the expression.

"You said I owned you a home-cooked meal."

"But we're in a restaurant."

He smirked at her as he tied an apron around his waist, over his dark denim jeans, "I'm cooking you dinner."

Her mouth dropped open slightly and then she smiled at him as it all clicked in her head. "Did you really rent out a whole restaurant just for this?"

"I know the owner. He gave me a discount for the night. He says Mondays are slow anyways."

She shook her head in awe, "well this is a first."

"What? A guy renting out a restaurant for you?"

"No, a guy cooking for me?"

Mike laughed, a genuine smile on his mouth, "I'm not too bad of a chef."

"I'll be the judge of that," she said pointing at him. "I'm gonna go get a soda, you want anything?"

She was afraid of his answer the minute she finished asking, she feared he'd want a drink.

Without even glancing up at her he replied, "just water, thanks."

She blinked and then nodded and left the kitchen, finding the drink bar, getting herself a Sprite and pouring a glass of water for Mike. She stopped and glanced around the restaurant. It was a nice place, a business-casual type of feel to it with a black and white décor theme that gave it a sophisticated look. There was a large rounded fish tank atop a tiled half wall and she set her soda down to walk over to the fish tank, examining it's contents.

It was a salt water tank, she could tell as much from the types of fish swimming about the fake coral centerpiece. She stared in wide-eyed wonder at the fish. She'd always loved animal and the beach, probably because when she was young she only ever got to go to the beach twice and it had seemed like such a special, rare thing to her even though the ocean covered over seventy percent of the earth's surface. She was from Tennessee, they didn't have the ocean there.

After she moved to California, she found herself visiting the beach often even though she didn't leave especially close being in the middle of Los Angeles. She liked the ocean, even though it was easily accessible to her now, it hadn't lost it's charm or wonder.

"My friend has a thing for fish."

She suddenly straightened, her heart jumping at the sudden sound, her hand flying to her chest, as if her hand could slow her heart.

Mike smiled apologetically, "sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

He had his glass of water in one hand as he stood next o her, his other hand ghosting over the small of her back.

"It's okay. I didn't even hear you come over." She smiled, "but the fish are beautiful."

He nodded in agreement, "yeah, they are."

When she looked back at him she realized he wasn't staring at the fish and when she caught his gaze he cleared his throat and looked away quickly.

"So, what's on the menu tonight?" She asked.

"Lasagna. I hope you like my mom's recipe."

"I love lasagna. I'm a pasta girl, I like my carbs."

He chuckled softly and they fell into easy conversation with Mike sharing stories of his mother. He had her laughing and grinning and following along, captivated by his stories.

As he finished another tale of his childhood, their chuckling diminished and Mike looked up at her.

Matt's words echoed in her head about opening up being a give and take kind of thing.

"My grandma helped raise me," she said, out of blue, not quite sure why.

Mike raised his eyebrows, "really?"

"Yeah."

They were back in the kitchen now. She was leaning against the wall, watching as Mike worked, cutting up ingredients and mixing the sauce and all kinds of other steps that she wasn't really paying attention to as she stared into her glass of ice and Sprite.

"My mom always worked two or three jobs at one time and she couldn't really afford a babysitter even with the child support." She shrugged, "my grandma watched me for free. She'd pick me up from school, cook me dinner, help me with my homework, go to my recitals and school plays. She even taught me how to do my make up, got me inspired to go to beauty school," Aurora smiled fondly and Mike glanced up at her, caught by the happily reminiscent look on her face.

"She was a showgirl, in Vegas in the late 1930's through the 40's and even early 50's, she retired when she met my grandpa and then she had my mom."

"Did your grandpa help raise you too?"

"No, he died in Vietnam when my mom was little."

"I'm sorry," he murmured as he slid the lasagna into the oven before turning to her, wiping his hands off on his apron.

Aurora shrugged, "she always told me stories about him. She really loved him. Kept a picture of him on her piano and she'd talk to him, and play him music, decades after he'd died. It was the sweetest thing I've ever seen."

"Is she still...alive?"

Aurora's smile saddened, "no, she died four years ago from lung cancer. She was a terrible smoker all her life. But she was 86, lived a long, full life. I miss her though, all the time."

Mike nodded in understanding, feeling closer to Aurora in that moment than he had the whole time knowing her.

Their eyes met as he leaned against the stainless steel island in the kitchen across from her.

"So, now we wait?" She asked.

He nodded, and they grew silent, just studying each other.

"I haven't had a drink since that day." Mike spoke into the silence, causing her gaze to refocus on his face. She didn't say anything, deciding to let him continue the conversation if he wanted to. "You have a point when you're preaching about how I shouldn't drown my sorrows with alcohol. And I've been trying, really hard, to stay away from it."

She smiled at him, a simple upturn of her lips, "I'm proud of you."

Her words were completely earnest and he could hear the truth in them, causing him to smile back at her.

"It's...getting easier, to think about her and have it not hurt."

"Is that why you would drink? Because it hurt to think about her?"

He nodded, "the alcohol numbed the pain, so I could think about Julianne without having the consuming ache in my chest. But it's...manageable now."

"Do you think it will ever not hurt?"

He lifted one shoulder noncommittally, "I don't know. I think it will always sting and I will always feel the loss of Julianne. But I think I'll one day be able to think about her easily, without fearing it or needing a crutch."

Aurora nodded, studying his face. The lighting in the kitchen cast shadows that sharpened the planed of his face, creating beautiful contours and lines that made him even more attractive than he was in normal daylight. She swallowed, pressing her lips together and glancing away from him before she got too caught up in her mind.

"Well, I'm glad the pain is...manageable," she used the same word she had, because she didn't want to put words or feelings into his mouth. She didn't want to label how he was feeling incorrectly, not now that they had reached this understanding. They'd built a bridge and she would do anything to keep it from burning or crumbling.

The timer on the over buzzed and Mike smiled, "I'll meet you at our table," he said and she nodded, exiting in the kitchen after grabbing their drinks.

She sat down at the singular table that was set, with a small burning candle on one ledge. The deep charcoal cloth napkins were wrapped tightly around their silverware. She placed Mike's glace of water down in front of his place setting and sat her glass down across from it. After a moment she sat down, resting her elbow on the table as she watched the fish tank from her seat.

The opening of the kitchen doors caused her to look up. Mike was approaching their table, a triumphant smile on his face as he held a plate in each hand. He set one down in front of her and the other in front of his chair.

"Bon apetit," he said with a grin and wink before he took his seat. She cut into her square of lasagna and carried the slice to her mouth, chewing slowly she closed her eyes.

She let out an appreciative groan and chewed for a few moment more before swallowing.

When she opened her eyes, Mike was watching her with a smug smirk, blue eyes mischievous.

"It's delicious, holy fuck."

He laughed at her language, shaking his head. "Thanks."

"You've been holding out on me Mizanin, damn. Why do we even eat out? You should be cooking me meals every day."

They both laughed until Mike replied, "I would cook for you ever day."

Their expressions sobered as their eyes met and they grew silent. Mike cleared his throat and they broke away from their staring, returning to their meal, falling into conversation even easier than before.

Aurora felt at peace with their friendship now.  
"So, friends?" Mike asked, blue eyes glancing up at her through his lashes as he set his water down.

"Definitely friends."

* * *

_**Review? **_


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